So it begins - A Mentalist origin story
by kissingsherlock
Summary: Patrick Jane's origin story seen through the eyes of the first girl he loved. A story that starts with Patrick coming back years after his disappearance from the carnival only to find that Angela has moved on. A story of growing up and breaking the boundaries you grew up in. Angela Ruskin/ Patrick Jane ( T for swearing, violence, alcoholism )
1. Beginnings

I was walking towards my trailer with a bunch of wet clothes in my hands. Actually, the plan was to hang them up midday so there would be enough time for drying but I had to help all day breaking down the tents of the carnival so we could start traveling early in the morning.  
I usually didn't keep my costumes out during the night. Things got stolen when townies knew they wouldn't be reported. But today I had no other choice. Costumes needed to be dried, ironed and folded until eight tomorrow. Nine was usually time to leave. When I arrived at my family´s wagon I started to throw the different colored suits on the clothesline that my brother tautened between our home and a nearby tree.  
Our trailer was barely big enough to walk inside let alone live with three other people but it was all we had. Right now it was abandoned and quiet. Mom and dad were probably busy supervising the packing of their trapeze swings and training net. Danny was doing whatever. My parents, my brother and I, we all worked at the carnival. We worked and we traveled through the whole country, moving to another city every other week. That was basically all we did. That has been our family business for generations.  
Even grandma didn't know the feeling of living in one place for more than a month. One time, when I was six years old, my mother had asked me if I wanted to go to a real school, a boarding school where I could stay and they would come visit me every few months. But of course I'd declined. I'd been too scared of being away from my family and familiarity. I hated my past self for it. All I wanted was to escape from this hell called carny life.

"Hey, Angela, right?" I flinched at the voice that suddenly broke through the quietness of the mostly empty field. As I turned around a golden-haired young man walked through nightfall right towards me.

"You're back." I said indifferently and turned to my work again, pegging out the rest of my washing. "Where have you been? Haven´t seen you in a while."

"Oh, you know..." He began when he finally reached me. "I had business to take care of."

"So it´s true? The jail thing?" For a moment he looked at me with shock in his handsome face and I felt the need to explain myself. "Oh, you know... You just left and there were rumors."

If he was bothered by my pettiness, he didn't show.  
My insides were screaming. His appearance felt ghostlike in the murky dusk. How long has it been? I was questioning myself if I didn't just imagine him. I must be going crazy.

"No. I was just... Can I help you with that?" He changed subjects, pointing at the clothesline in front of us. Half of me wanted to see if his hand would just go through anything he touched. Maybe he had died while he was away all these years.  
My voice was croaking while I tried to find some sort of humor in this. "It would help if you could stop staring at my underwear."

A weird twitch crazed his eyebrows and he turned slightly, hands always in his washed-out tattered jeans' pockets. The silence made me hate the decision to try to be funny.  
He was back. Whatever took him so long. He was here.

"It's great to see you around again, Patrick." I sent him a sweet smile, hoping it would mend all the wrongs and save me from the awkwardness. No matter how long it's taken him to come back, I was still not ready to face him again.  
"It's nice to see you again, too." He smiled and looked at me like he expected something from me.  
I reciprocated his smile and rose to speak again hoping it would break the awkwardness.  
"Can you help to feed May? I need to get it done before it gets completely dark." What I left out of it was that I needed to get it done because my dad would be angry if I was out the night before travel.

"Sure."

"Great."

I started walking hastily but he kept up with me.  
"So it´s your job now to do the acrobatics with May." I was thankful for the small talking but I didn't appreciate him looking at me every other moment.

"And you inherited your dad's deductive mind, I reckon." My sarcasm let his self-assured smile leave his lips. If I remembered correctly, before his disappearance, Alex tried to train Patrick to exert his psychic act. How many years has it been again?  
Then suddenly he started a bitter laugh. "I probably wouldn't be here again if it wasn't for that and my ability to earn Alex's money." The bitterness in his voice was unmistakable and calling his dad by his first name was new.

"Don´t say that." I uttered more compassionate after a while. We had reached the elephant´s enclosure. Patrick didn't bother replying. He just stared at May coming towards us because she recognized my voice.

"Look at her." Patrick said seemingly astonished by this sight, his face lighting up for the first time. He grabbed the upper beam of the fence and let his body fall back holding onto the wood.  
So no ghost, I reassured myself and was suddenly embarrassed by everything I had beaten him around the head with. For god's sake. It was just Patrick Jane. Simply Patrick. I wished for a chance to turn back time and take on this challenge again. Couldn't I have just hugged him, welcomed him, told him that I had missed him every single day?

But now it was over and he will forever remember this moment as me being hostile towards him. I couldn't take it back. My pride wouldn't allow it.  
For a second, I played with the thought of what could have happened instead. This second was all that I allowed myself.

Without a word, I lead May a bit to the right, closer to the wagon that carried her hay. She waited patiently until I pulled out a bundle and she even waited until I presented it to her. Only then did she carefully take it with her trunk after petting me on the head as her way of thanking me. I walked back into the wagon while Patrick followed me quietly, but waited outside.

"Is this really her?" He continued watching her while leaning against the door of the wagon. It felt like he wasn't talking about the elephant. Ridiculous shame. "I don't remember her being this gentle."

"She just needed training, that´s all." I shrugged it off and handed him an empty bucket while keeping one for myself. "We need to get her water. Today was a hot day so we probably need to go to the lake twice."

Half-heartedly, I expected him to ridicule me and tell me to do my chores alone and I was braced for a whole lot more. He didn't. He carried his bucket to the lake and back with me and then to the lake again without one bad word coming from his lips. Even I would have liked to complain about the work in this impermeable heat around us that made it even more exhausting or the dark that made it impossible to see, but he didn't. When we arrived at the lake a second time I let the bucket fall on the ground and sat down right by the waterside near enough to dip my feet in the cold water if I'd want to.

Without hesitation, he filled his bucket and then mine afterward while I was watching him climb in and out of the lake. He didn't show a sign of annoyance that I just sat there and did nothing besides letting him do my work. It was so unlike him or my memory of him. He had always been easily irritated by work or people while also being fast to brag with his X-ray eyes and hence irritating others. When he suddenly showed up again, I couldn't help but jump-start back into the pattern of always being irritated by him. He was new and somehow delicate in the way that he hauled the full buckets out of the lake with sweat on his shirt and wet calves.

It hasn't even been my intention to let him work for me. I wanted him to sit down with me so we could talk but he just walked back through the woods to the enclosure. I sighed remarkably before following him back to camp. I was confused and ashamed and euphoric at the same time. He was new and somehow even more exciting. I caught up with him fast, timidly reaching out a hand to help him carry a bucket. It was like meeting a new person after all these years. My fingertips tingled.


	2. In the past

"What are you doing up there?" Patrick shouted looking up at me with laughter as I was practising on the roof of my trailer.  
"What do you think I´m doing?" I said while doing a handstand and trying to bend enough for my feet to touch the roof again.  
After chuckling he resumed: "Does May still need water? I don´t have anything to do right now and I thought..."  
Looking at him I lost my balance and fell on my back which resulted in a loud blow on the metal roof. Instantly my brother came out of the wagon but instead of asking if I was okay he just greeted Patrick. Since Patrick returned from where ever he has been my little brother and him had become good friends regardless of the four years between them.  
"Yes, I´m okay thanks." I mentioned sarcastic when the two wouldn´t even consider that I´m hurt.  
"Stop pouting and get down here!", Danny said laughing at a story Patrick told him. "Did you know that the store in town belongs to an old lady who will give you free stuff?"  
"Only if you say the right things." Patrick winked at Danny with a bright grin on his face.  
"Just catch me, Danny." I ignored the once again bad influence that Patrick had on my little brother and slid down the roof smoothly into Danny´s arms before he let me step on the ground in front of Patrick.  
"Are you ready?" He asked looking into my eyes and my heart dropped for a second.  
"Ready for what?" Danny intervened.  
"We wanted to go get some water for May." I explained and took a step back from him.  
My little brother looked at Patrick first then at me and with a big grin on his face back at him. "Sure." He answered finally in a teasing manner almost winking at the man beside me.  
"Mind your own business." Patrick said and jokingly shoved him. I watched them grapple for a bit before I laid my hand on his back.  
"Let´s go, Patrick."  
Instantly he let go of my brother, whom he clearly overpowered, and followed me.  
We walked through a field of high grass that almost reached my hips. The air was vibrating of heat and the last sun rays of this late summer´s day that coloured everything in silky tones of yellow and orange.  
"You´re practising a new show routine?" Patrick broke the stirring silence.  
"Oh great deduction, genius psychic." I joked, hoping he would just drop the subject. I´m not going to say that we had problems but lately my parents seem to act more and more strangely and the tough times didn´t seem to pass as easily as they used to ever since I can remember. They barely talked any more and when they do they keep yelling at each other because of business.  
After laughing to himself he continued: "You know what else I can read in your mind?"  
For a moment my heart stopped. If he could ever read my thoughts I couldn´t look him in the eyes out of embarrassment. Shoving aside the heat that was about to rise in my cheeks I muttered: "Oh and what is that?"  
"Why am I practising a new routine when we only have four cities in two months left. I have the whole winter to practise."

He tried to imitate my voice by speaking in a much higher tone that I thought was possible for an adult man and I couldn´t help but laugh at his attempt.  
"I don´t sound like that!" I managed to utter playfully pouting after I could finally form audible words apart from laughter.  
His smile faded fast after mine when he dared to ask what was really going on.  
"Oh you know.. It´s the 80s. I guess people just have better things to do in their spare time than going to a boring carnival show." I tried to contain my bitterness and conceal it with a joking tone and smile while I just shrugged it off.  
Looking at him I saw a worried look in his eyes while his face remained completely neutral. I couldn´t suppress the urge to explain myself more to him.

"We aren´t earning enough money anymore. I mean it´s not only us. You probably noticed that everyone is running low at the moment. And my dad is blaming us being the main attraction. He says everyone is but I can hardly believe that. Anyways. I was... advised to come up with some new more exciting shows that would lure people to the carnival."  
Without hesitating he answers in an unusually serious voice: "I know what you mean. This summer went worse than the ones before but I can definitely say that it´s not your show´s fault. Everyone noticed that there were continually less visitors. Even Mariah told me that she barely earned any money this week. And you know her hot dogs are the best."

He tried to make me smile and I appreciated that. For a change I could read his face like an open book: He hoped I would laugh or at least flash him a grin but all I did was sigh.  
Without noticing we had walked past May´s wagon forgetting to fetch the buckets and walked straight to the lake. Seemingly without noticing the mistake Patrick sat down beside the water facing the small waves nearly touching his run-down shoes.  
"We forgot the buckets." I remarked while sitting down next to him and the excitement I felt reminded me of older days.  
"No." He just said, not taking his eyes off the water.  
"What do you mean no?" I looked at him confused. His hair shimmered golden in the sunset´s light and then he finally looked at me with a smirk on his lips. "I got May some water already. Honestly I just wanted to talk to you when I saw you like that."  
"Like what?" He wasn´t oblivious to my discomfort so he tried a gentler approach.  
"Do you remember the time before I was gone for a bit?"  
"A bit? It was four years, Patrick. We were almost children then."  
"I know it was a long time and things changed since then. I just wished that we could talk like that again."

When I didn´t say anything, just stared at the other side of the lake, he continued and I felt that he tried his best to sound as casual as it was humanly possible to him. "It just feels weird to see you suffer and not knowing what is going on in your mind."  
I chuckled bitterly and looked at him.

Some unknown anger crept up inside of me and I would have loved to scream at him that he shouldn´t have left then but instead I said: "We were close but that´s in the past. You can´t just disappear and come back again and expect us to treat you like you never left our community.

You can´t just come and go as you please and think you´re still part of my life."

His features didn´t change one bit as if he didn´t care about what I said and it made me even angrier. I almost thought that I had been too harsh with him. I actually truly wanted to tell him that I´m glad he´s back and that I was looking forward to making those four years up, getting to know him all over again. But his indifference made me furious. The moment I realised he wouldn´t answer was the moment I stood up and made my way back to the camp. Once I dared to look back, hoping to see any kind of emotion, but he had just pulled his legs closer still staring at the lake. This picture stayed with me my whole way back.

The whole power of anger that I had felt four years ago came back to hit me again, making me realize that I never truly got over the fact that he left without a word. I still remembered it like it was yesterday. I had walked to his and his dad´s trailer and wanted to show him the butterfly that I had caught in a glass that I stole from Mariah´s shop. A stupid excuse to get to talk to him before we broke down the tents and left the next morning. I had knocked at the door and his father had opened. The heavy smell of smoke and sweat that had greeted me still lingered in my nose as I thought back and I remember being a little scared of him. But I had pulled myself together and asked if I could see Paddy. He had sneered and told me no while he had already been closing the door. I had proceeded to ask when I could see him and his father´s words almost hadn´t reached me through the closed door but they had echoed in my empty mind as I tried to make sense of them. "He is gone."  
I could recall the moment that my legs had made their way home across the mowed grass. I couldn´t remember what happened to the butterfly in these moments, I just knew that when I could finally cry on the fold-out stairs of our trailer it had already been gone.  
I wouldn´t get any sleep tonight that was for sure. Being consumed by the thoughts of how I came to terms with losing my first crush without knowing what had been going on and now seeing him again. All grown up with the same breathtaking smile that I had almost forgotten. I knew I wouldn´t find rest with his presence in my dreams. And now – now he was back, demanding to be part of my life again, letting everything slip out of my control again as I could feel the same attraction he had to me ever since. I wasn´t able to let him be that close to me again, ever again. Because he made me feel the power he had over me. He made me suffer for all I cared for him and it was enough. I finally managed to let no one have that much power over me but myself and I was not yet ready to suffer again.


	3. Take me to church

Before everyone else got up I got dressed in my best summer dress and stepped out into the still chilly air. It was Sunday morning and preparations to leave this town had already started. I knew that my parent´s didn´t like when I left because I couldn´t help them to pack everything up but it became a kind of tradition for me to excuse myself for Sunday mornings. I walked towards the trees behind our home knowing that there would be a street that I could follow to the nearby town. Walking in the shadows of the blooming trees made me regret putting on a dress because I could feel the foreshadowing of the nearing fall in the cold wind that grazed through the leafs. It probably wouldn´t even take a month until the first brown leafs would cover the ground. I was glad when I finally stepped out in the open and on the small street. Barely any cars drove by while I walked north following the line the asphalt provided. About ten minutes into walking the town formed in a distance and with it two figures walking towards me on the same side of the road. My heart stopped only to beat harder when I recognized golden wavy hair on one of them and when I heard their voices I was sure. My brother and Patrick walking towards me, joking, laughing, being generally silly and I felt ashamed because of how nervous I got as they got closer.  
"Where is she going?" I heard Patrick´s voice and when I overheard my name I clenched my fists for a split second. Every muscle in my body tensed up in anticipation and my tension reached it´s peak when he finally looked me in the eyes, captured me and didn´t leave me until he stood right in front of me.  
"How´s my favourite sister doing?", Danny laughed, laying his arm over my shoulders and pulling me close.  
"I try to walk to town. What are you two doing here so early?" I smiled and shoved off his arm not letting my eyes leave Patrick´s for long.  
"I showed him the corner store." Patrick answered and both laughed at their little secret. I didn´t ask further because I have already been late when I left home so I heavy hearted I said that I had to hurry and was about to say goodbye when Patrick intervened. "Can I accompany you?"  
For a moment I stared at him startled while my brother joked about how he should not disturb the good girls when I gained my words back. "Sure you can." I couldn´t help but return his reluctant smile although I tried to contain my excitement.  
"See you, Danny." Patrick half-heartedly tried to get rid of my brother already turning towards the town he just came from.  
"You can´t just leave, Pat!" Danny protested but soon discovered that he didn´t have a chance to change Patrick´s mind.  
"You can´t just let your sister walk around alone like that. I´ll help you later." He didn´t even look at him just waved with one arm over is head while I stepped beside him.  
Danny accepted his defeat and retreated, not that I would still notice that he made his way back through the trees. Although I didn´t like to admit it, my attention rested on Patrick walking so close next to me that our arms touched regularly. After some silence that made me recall the last talk we had, he hemmed and I felt like he too had to think about the things I said. "So you´re going to church?" His tone was careful as if he was scared to make me go off at him again.  
"My brother told you?"  
"Yes."  
I looked at him until I found the courage to ask him: "Why are you going with me then? I remember you don´t believe in such things."  
"I couldn´t let you walk alone out here."  
I chuckled. "You mean out here in the wilderness?"  
"Yes! All these cars and the big city with all these gangs. I was afraid you could get lost."  
We both laughed shyly as we approached the first houses of this three home town.  
"Sarcasm. That´s new." I remarked and took a deep breath feeling the sun heating up the asphalt on which we walked. It hurt me when I became aware of how careful and tensed he suddenly was with me. Maybe I really had been too harsh with him this week. We both avoided each other as good as possible and it was the hardest most life draining thing I had to do lately. It saddened me that this feeling now seemed to continue even while being with him.  
"You changed, too, you know?" He put his hands in his pockets and I dared to look at him for a moment longer than it would have been acceptable. The sun shone through his white shirt exposing his body underneath it and it took all my strength to look at the street again.  
"What do you mean?" I already knew that I didn´t want to hear the answer. `I know that I`m bitter, thanks for telling me´ was what I wanted to blurt out but I stayed silent.  
"You don´t laugh at my jokes the way you used to." I thanked god for this not so serious answer of his.  
"Maybe you´re just not that funny any more." I joked and he lightly touched my shoulder with his in an attempt to nudge me. The rest of our way he tried to convince me of his comedic talent. Only when he saw the white painted small church in front of us he stopped in the middle of a joke.  
"So is there a thing for me to attend. Some guidelines to follow?" He gulped when we took the steps to the big front doors covered in colourful glass.  
"Are you serious?" I laughed and as I opened the door and gently pushed him inside I lowered my voice until it was only a whisper. "Just do as I do."  
"Okay." He answered too loud for the quiet room and he cleared his throat with the first people turning their heads at us.  
I signed him to be quiet because the service had already started and led him to a bench in the back where we sat down behind an old black couple. The woman´s enormous hat made it impossible for me to see whatever was going on in the front. Even Patrick had trouble to see so he chose to keep his eyes on me. I tried to ignore it for a bit but he made me nervous and he knew exactly what he was doing judging by his smirk.  
"Okay. What?" I whispered throwing a glance at him but quickly looking back to the front where the choir took position.  
"Oh nothing." He replied standing up when everyone else lifted themselves from the wooden benches. He grabbed a small book from behind us, skimmed through it quickly just to finally open it at a page with the song text of the song the choir and everyone around us was singing. He held the book between us so I could read it too and looked suspiciously innocent. In the same moment I was stunned by the fact that he was able to follow the service while also making it insanely hard for me to concentrate on what was said although it was me who wanted to pay attention but can´t because of... him. "Unbelievable", I muttered under my breath smiling and swore to myself to ignore his eyes on me for the rest of the sermon. What I couldn´t ignore was his faint smile reacting to my swearing. Up until the end he stayed silent and let me enjoy the peaceful situation but I noticed that he didn´t really care what was being said although he seemed to listen. Even though his eyes were directed to the front I knew his attention rested on me and it made me feel endlessly calm and in the end it was me that couldn´t keep her eyes to the front. On our way back the sun was already at the highest point in the sky and it took us nearly three times the time to walk home than it took us to get there. The whole time we were talking and it was as if the shadow of my harsh words that had weighed us down had lifted and for the first time in long I finally felt like I was able to breath.  
"Did I tell you that I´ll get my own show soon?" Patrick said.  
"No, you didn´t! That´s amazing. What are you going to do?"  
"You know... The usual. Reading people´s future and stuff. Finding their lost watches and keys with my psychic mind."  
"So you´ll be a professional liar?" I tried to joke but it actually came along more serious than I intended. He tried to keep up the happy spirit and mocked me: "Why do you think I lie? Maybe I can really read minds and see the future."  
"Oh I´m pretty sure you´re not able to read minds." I blushed as his fingers touched mine and as a reaction to hide what effect he had on me I walked in front of him and turned around so I could look at him better.  
"What makes you think I can´t?" His grin wouldn´t leave his lips.  
Playfully running towards the trees I said in a louder voice so he could still understand me: "If you did you wouldn´t look at me like that." As soon as I reached the trees I turned around, watched him follow me through the high grass.  
"What did you do?" He laughed and started running towards me, stopping only inches away from me. "Did you steal your brothers magazines? Murder your cat?" I backed away grinning mischievously at him until my back hit a tree and I couldn´t go any further. With every step he took towards me my heart started pounding faster and when he placed his arms left and right of me it felt like exploding.  
"What did you do, Annie?" he asked under his breath with this breathtaking smile of his, his nose nearly touching mine. The little voice in the back of my head that screamed that I actually wanted to keep my distance from him earlier this week was now drowned by the foresight of his lips on mine. Finally I was surprised by myself that I actually found the words to say this but somewhere from my malfunctioning brain I managed to whisper: "Read my mind, psychic." I saw him glancing at my lips as I manage to pull myself up a little by the tree I was leaning at to nearly reach his lips. His breath on my skin and a ringing in my ears that seemed to get louder every second and right before he overcame the small distance between his lips and mine I saw two police cars with sirens rushing towards the fairground from the corner of my eyes. We both simultaneously backed away from each other and it took me a moment to process what was happening before I started running back home. I knew he was following me, I heart his steps behind me but at the moment I really didn´t care. If the police intervenes in carny folk´s business chances are something serious had happened. I felt like my lung was about to collapse in my chest when we finally reached the trailers. Only to find the police cars park right in the middle, lights still on, colouring the people and the attractions in blinking blue and red. We made our way through the crowd of people that were visiting the carnival and that already start to leave before we reached my parents. "What is going on?" I ask out of breath. My mother was the only one to react. She slowly looks from me to Patrick who is standing right behind me and back to me. Her voice breaks as she speaks and she´s close to tears: "It´s Danny. They are searching for him."


	4. Distance

I watched Patrick talk with a police officer from a distance while I was sitting on our trailer´s stairs. My parents tried to fight quietly a few steps away from me and their fighting grew more intense the more people left and the longer the police stayed on the fairground. Danny didn´t come home in the morning and we had no idea where he was. The fact that we couldn´t even lie about his whereabouts made it even worse. There was nothing we could do for him. Whatever he had done he stood alone. My only hope was that he was smart enough to stay away until we left in the evening so maybe there was a chance of us getting away with him.  
When Patrick made his way towards me I jumped to my feet and almost ran towards him.  
"What did they say?" I asked, restless and troubled.  
My parents quietly joined our conversation and I could see their aversion towards him but even their dislike of the Jane family wasn´t enough to keep them away from the only information they could get.  
"He robbed a shop in town. Stole some liquor and managed to escape."  
That few information seemed to be enough for my father to think he could negotiate with the police so he stormed away and dragged my mom after him.  
"What else?" I begged him to tell me more because I knew from the look on his face that he didn´t tell me everything.  
"It was the corner store I showed him." Sorrow in his voice and I could clearly see that he was mildly uncomfortable telling me.  
I felt like slapping him but somewhere I found the smallest amount of patience I could come up with to give him one chance to explain before I lost my temper. "Did you have something to do with this?"  
"I didn´t tell him to rob it!"  
"What did you tell him then?" I cut in.  
"I joked about how easy it could be because there were some major security issues. That was it." He made some gestures that should probably tell me how minor this was before he continued. "Maybe I explained how I would do it."  
"Are you out of your mind?!" I yelled and shoved him at the same time hoping he would break his neck when falling.  
"Come on! I tried to beat him out of it. The cops said they wouldn´t search for him if he left with us tonight. I won´t tell him something like this again. Promise."  
"No you won´t! You will not talk to him again." My yelling became a dangerous hissing.  
"I don´t care what you do with your life and I don´t care if you spent the rest of your life in prison but when you put my brother up to bullshit like this you will regret it. Do. You. Understand. Me!?"  
I was already stomping off when he shouted after me: "Oh come on. You do care about me."  
I could hear his disgusting grin in his words and it made me rush back and hit him in the face so hard he stumbled back and tripped over his own feet. Weird satisfaction flooded my body as he held his nose making painful grunting noises while trying to get on his own two feet again. And as I turned my back on him huddled on the ground I saw Danny walking onto the fairground.  
I only managed to mumble an "Oh no." before the police got a glance of him. He didn´t even try to run away when they came after him knowing that it was too late for escaping this time.

The following day everything was quiet. So damn quiet. Not even Patrick's father yelled at some random worker breaking down the tents. My parents didn't fight and May didn't greet me when I came to feed her and lead her to her wagon. The police took Danny. God knows for how long they will keep him imprisoned. But the carnival never stops, never stays in one place too long. The day was sweltry and the air heavy on our minds.  
Patrick was … there and also not really. I was relieved that he was for once listening to what I said and keeping away from me and our family. In half an hour we would all get in our trailers and drive off to an even hotter and muggier location. We would travel for hours, not getting there until two days later. Danny will never find us let alone reach us without any money or knowledge where we were going. He never cared for knowing what came next. There was nothing new. Always the same.  
"Annie, help your mother secure the chairs on the roof, will you?" my father yelled. I didn't bother responding, just trotted over and climbed on the roof of our trailer for my mother to hand me the chairs so I could tie them down.  
"Angela." It was Patrick's voice. With his hands in his ripped jeans' pockets he was looking up to me with puppy eyes and his damn golden hair. While I was plotting an answer that I hoped would hurt him, my father came first:  
"You should leave, Patrick."  
"I was just trying to speak to her." His hands never left his pockets and his eyes never left me.  
"You caused enough trouble with Danny. You will leave!" My father planted himself in front of him threateningly and I purposefully looked away, lashing the last of the ropes down. From the corner of my eyes I saw Patrick being unimpressed by the threat and with a smirk on his lips he said, louder, to make sure I heard him: "Tell her I was here." He turned and left and left my father shaking his head, yelling after him  
"You're too much your father for your own good." but Patrick didn't react. That day we left without my brother. The police wouldn't let us talk to him, not tell him where we went. They wouldn't let us leave him money. That day was quiet.


	5. Fixed by ice

We had been in our new location for two weeks already. No one heard from Danny the whole time. But the show must go on. Strangely enough my parents didn't fight any more since he was taken by the police. They just spent their time in silence.

There was a nice little church in the centre of the town we stayed at this time. Slightly bigger town than the last. No corner stores. And the people visited the fair more frequently, putting everyone's minds at ease. Everybody's but mine.

At the show tonight would be the premiere of my new show with May. The slightly increasing sales made it possible for me to take more time to train with her but there still has to be a time when I aced the last landing.

I was backstage, preparing May for her performance. I didn't like putting a yoke on her but to maintain the same flashy atmosphere as the rest of the show I painted golden patterns on her forehead and back.

"Sorry May. You know I would love you to just go out as beautiful as you are without all the mess." I whispered to her and she patted my shoulder with her trunk as I pressed a golden hand print between her eyes, petting her in the meantime.

"I know. You don't like being all dolled up, do you?" May let her trunk sink and wiggled her ears.

I took a new swap of colour and drew a line from my hairline straight down to the tip of my nose.

"See, now we're both something that we don't like." She shifted from one leg to another and behind her the curtains of the tent swished like someone entered.

"Hello?" I said but knew full well that I won't get an answer. "Patrick? Show yourself!"

I put down the paint and went towards the curtain when a young man stepped out.

"Hi." He stuttered and wrestled with his jacket in his hands. "I didn't know how long you will be here with the carnival so I figured I'll come to see you. Didn't want to wait until next Sunday."

I'd met him in church two weeks ago and we had talked a bit. He was cute with his brown eyes and freckles. Also I could read him like an open book. He knew fully well that I would be gone in a few weeks and that he would never hear from me again. But that was what he wanted, wasn't it? Even though it was hard to believe for him to have ulterior motives like that with all his stuttering and his nervousness. He eyed me up and down as he had probably never seen a girl in an attire like my show costume before.

"You're not supposed to be in here." I say with a smile on my face and walk closer to him. For a second his eyes were scared. But he lost that fear when I didn't say anything else to throw him out.

"I thought you could maybe show me around?"

The audience in the tent behind us cheered loudly.

"I have to be on stage soon. But I could introduce you to May." I said as I wiped my hands on a towel.

"Sure. Who's May?" He followed me deeper into the backstage area.

I chuckled. "The main attraction of our show." I stepped next to her and petted her shoulder. "Hey May, I brought someone who wants to visit you. That's Lucas."

Lucas eyed May and slowly, step by step, came closer.

"You don't have to be scared. She loves people." I reached out my hand to him and he took it. It was like teaching your little brother to walk. But not really because you don't think about kissing your little brother. But I thought about kissing Lucas. Because he's here now and he will be gone in a few weeks. And he's so much not Patrick that it will make Patrick incredibly jealous. But of course I would never do something with the sole purpose of making a certain person jealous. Lucas is also cute.

"Can I touch her?" He asked with a fascination in his voice that made him more a human than just an object to be kissed. My bad conscience flooded over me but I held it down.

"Course." I smiled as he held his hand out as if he waited for May to come to him. She being her impatient self, tried to grab his hand with her trunk and Lucas stepped back, tripping over the can of golden paint. It sent him falling and me with him because he grabbed my hand even tighter.

He looked so shocked that I couldn't contain myself. I roared with laughter and his cheeks blushed. He was about to get up, but I held him back.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to laugh. You just had a really funny look on your face." I knew that if he thought I ridiculed him he would leave and never come back. He had that kind of ego.

"I didn't expect her to move like that." His voice sheepish.

"I know. It's fine." I said while I picked straw out of his auburn hair. He looked at me and for once I couldn't read his expression and then he kissed me. It was a kiss full of bad conscience and wishes that he was someone else and when I opened my eyes I saw Patrick standing in between the curtains. Almost not there but his eyes were piercing through me and for a second I saw rage that had puddled up for way too long. And then he walked over to us in a pace that startled me and I stood.

"Hi, I'm Patrick. She calls me Paddy. And who are you?", Patrick reached out his hand to Lucas and yanked him to stand between us. Always with a wide unbroken smile while picking straw off of him, too fast to hinder him. Before Lucas could say anything, Patrick went on talking. "Nice to meet you. Sorry I just need to speak to Annie for a moment."

When it took Lucas a second too long to realize that he was asked to move, Patrick moved him himself. "Excuse me. Just a moment." While Lucas stood dumbstruck behind Patrick, Patrick turned to me and I tried to intervene but he silenced me with his words. "Nice guy you got there. A bit silent. Didn't know you liked that. But well... we all like different things, right?" His laugh was as forced as this monologue and when Lucas started to say something, Patrick interrupted him again. "Actually I just wanted to inform you that I will leave the carnival for a bit. Since you were so angry with me last time I thought I'd tell you now. And also I wanted to tell you good luck for you know... The show. And I wanted to do this." Without any sign of warning he pulled my face towards his and pressed a rough kiss on my lips. Then he left without looking back. I wanted to cry as well as run and yell at him. Not so much because he embarrassed me but because I was furious for him kissing me so nonchalantly and relieve me of our first kiss as a way of coming back at me. It shouldn't have been this way; not stolen but given freely and not out of retaliation. Never out of revenge.

Someone called my name and that was my sign to get ready.

"I need to get going now." I explained to Lucas without looking at him. As if nothing happened I stripped on my gloves and turned to May. She was dangerously quiet as she witnessed all my mixed feelings and the confusion.

"Take care." Lucas called after me as I promenaded into the spotlight of the arena. The crowd went dead quiet as the violins started their piece and I swung onto May's back. She immediately jumped onto her front legs and we remained still as the first applause crashed through the tent. May performed everything to perfection and the crowd constantly swayed between silent awe and raging excitement and then the last pose demanded me to jump from her trunk three meters to the ground and I landed. And my ankle twisted in a way that made me suck my breath in, close to screaming. But I landed straight and I stood with my arms in the air, a tear of pain rolling from my cheek while I tried to smile for the audience. I signed for May to carry me away so I didn't break the charm of a nearly perfect performance. The crowd cheered and cheered until I was lost in the curtains and finally backstage I could whimper the pain out of my body and fall to the ground like it should have been. And I cried out of hurt and because of the lightly swollen ankle.

It could have been worse. I could have fallen and ended up with a broken neck. I could have kissed Lucas and not felt weird. I could have been caught by Patrick and he could have been indifferent. It's all not as bad. All fixable by ice on an ankle and time.


	6. Wicked omen

I rested my ankle on a chair the whole next day after the accident. Three bags of ice have melted for the cause of curing my swollen foot and it was slightly better as long as I didn't move it at all. It felt explicitly worse when I tried to walk. But today was the last show of the week and I had to participate. Ma said I didn't have to if my ankle hurt like that but my dad kept his head down in silence. We both knew I had to at least get on stage and show off May or word would spread and visitor counts would go down again. Nothing worse for a fair than their main attraction not showing up.

"I brought you something." Mariah said, distracting me from my thoughts. She sat next to me in the hot autumn sun and handing me one of her hot dogs. "Mariah special." She gave me the most glowing white smile as a side with it.

Suddenly the burning heat of sun rays turned into soft touches of orange light that didn't hurt as much. "Thank you." I said, not only being thankful for her food but also the company as I was alone watching the busy workers all day.

"You're welcome, sweetheart. When you can't come to the food, the food comes to you. Can't let you starve." She leaned back in her seat to enjoy the sun while I was munching away on the hot dog. We sat in silence like that until I finished it and a little bit longer than that. Letting the orange sun caress our skin.

"Do you plan on performing today?" Mariah asked, not opening her eyes or moving at all.

"You know I have to or the crowd will demand a refund. The show must go on." An elaborate gesture of mine accompanying the last sentence.

"That's the dumbest thing I heard you say all your life, child."

I looked at her, staggered but I knew what she tried to say. Somewhere deep down I wished that life would be simpler. Not different but easy. Easy decisions that your life didn't depend on.

She turned to me and looked me in the eyes like my mother had done when we had 'the talk'. The way you looked someone in the eyes when you want them to really feel the seriousness in your words.

"You're no use to anyone when you get seriously hurt. Even less for yourself."

"I won't get seriously hurt." I put her off with a small wave off my hand, trying to stop my troubled mind from wandering off too far and her from further infecting me with her doubts.

"You should consider my words." Her voice dangerous enough to make me listen. It was almost a threat but not really. "I have seen it."

Now she forced my whole attention on her, plus goosebumps to listen to her following words.

"I had a dream. I saw you fall and get seriously injured. So much that they left you behind. Something wanted me to give you a warning." In a flash the sunlight got cold enough for me to shiver and I averted my gaze from her, rather staring to the largest tent on the fairground. Deep sadness flooded me but I pushed it aside. "It was just a dream, Mariah."

"It brings bad luck to ignore a wicked omen."

Now I got angry. "You know I don't believe in your magic.", I snapped and stared her down. She was the nicest woman I knew until it came to her magic. With it she suddenly turns dark and scary and full of poor news for each person she deals with. No wonder she's been fired as a fortune teller and had to resume with her hot dogs. Nothing about her knowing is ever fortunate.

"Even your holy book speaks of dreams that come true and visions that tell the future. Don't be so naive, child."

"I will take care as I always do when I perform. I will even watch out a little extra because I'm hurt already. But that's it. There's no bad luck." I hoped she would shut up about it so bad that I said it with a bit more anger than what would have sufficed. And it did do the job. She seemed not really content but still pleased with her work.

"I will light some mandrake for you." She finished and stood.

"I will light a candle." I replied and that was the end.

She left hugging herself with her red fringed scarf as if it was cold. As soon as she was out of sight the sun made my skin sweat again.


	7. Greed

The last show of the week was also the first done with my hurting ankle. I couldn't say that I was happy with what I came up with as a last minute special performance that didn't put so much stress on my feet. But it turned out alright with me just riding on May's back while she made some stunts. Her stealing popcorn from people's hands with her trunk made kids laugh. And that's all that matters.  
When kids are happy, their parents are happy and its parents who have the wallet. Smiling kids open the purses of adults and some even handed a dollar to me for their kids to pet May. It tugged on my heart that all the people touched her because I know that she's had a difficult time with humans. She was my baby. I've tamed her with all the love I've given and now she is the gentle giant that everyone loves. I just kept praying that she stayed calm during the few minutes of the performance. She would never ever have to give herself away for money again as soon as I could stand on my own two feet again and not rely on hers.

After I locked her in her wagon for the night with some extra peanuts as compensation, I could finally breath again. Nothing bad had happened. I didn't fall again. I didn't get hurt. Everything was fine. That's how I limped back to the fairground. Relieved and tired and in need of some sweets. The crowd just poured out of the biggest tent where the circus show had taken place and now started to fill the space between all the smaller tents. Night has fallen but the air was still stifling and all the people didn't help clear up the atmosphere. I found myself in front of the small tent with eerie black and red stripes where usually the psychic scams people into giving him money. No. It was the tent where I had hoped to see Paddy. But it was closed and empty. It had been empty since yesterday when he disappeared in the middle of the show. I wished for him to be here and then I left to get sweets and I didn't wish for him any more. I didn't wish that I could apologize for being childish and I didn't wish that he could have been here when I got hurt either. I didn't even wish that he was here so I didn't feel so alone with Danny gone too. I would never wish for such things since I was still angry. I was always angry at something. Patrick just seems to be the easiest choice for me to be angry at, to protect myself.

I waited at the counter of Harald's booth until he recognized me.

"The usual?", he greeted me, squeezing his eyes so he could see me better.

"Yes sir." Was my answer. We played this game since I've been old enough to stand at his counter and ask for a cherry popsicle with the same two words. Harald has been old since I can remember. He doesn't get older, he just keeps living and sweetening up everyone's day.

"Do you know where he is?" A deep drunk voice spoke too loudly all while standing right next to me.

I turned even though I didn't have to because I could always make out Patrick's father from a mile away by the smell of alcohol that gave me nightmares as a kid. "Who?", I asked him.

"Patrick of course!" He slurred.

"How would I know." I said and turned back to Harald who gave me a handful of my favourite sweets. Patrick's father didn't like when I got cheeky with him but I also couldn't possibly make myself stop annoying him. That's the least he deserved as well as all I could do.

"I know you. He's all mad about you. And everyone knows you put out for him. Don't lie to me! Where is he?" He spits, with every word getting more erratic and agitated.

"He didn't tell me and I don't give a shit. Fuck you." I stayed dangerously calm even though my voice was shaking. Even whispering so the people wouldn't realize there was a fight going on. Everyone knows, he had said. I couldn't even wonder who spread that lie before I flinched as he lifted his hand against me.

"You be drunk somewhere else." Harald finally intervened. "And stop sticking your nose in the kids' business."

"And who cares for my business? Fucking Patrick left in the middle of business hours and looses my money. What use is a son that doesn't want to earn money!" He screamed at us and then at the rest of the audience that cared to listen to him. When he left people kept their distance until the crowd swallowed him whole. His problems always resolved around money and not having any. Even at his worst right before Paddy disappeared for the first time, everything was about green paper. Not his son or even his own liver. Never about his son at all.

"Don't worry about him. He's all words and no taking action.", Harald explained in his old man's manner and handed me some extra sweets as if I was still ten.

"I know. But he's obnoxious. I don't know why he's still part of us and not kicked out yet.", I muttered while leaning on the counter with my elbow, shielding my face from him.

"Well, we all wouldn't want Patrick to leave because of his father's mistakes, right?" Harald smiled to himself while preparing some other customer's sweets in a neat paper bag. "And the carny folks are lazy. Once they accepted someone they don't just loose them. Where would he go? We are his family."

"I'm not sure he wants family.", I said, still bitter.

"Everyone wants family. Some just don't admit it. - Also no one wants to have their future read by lovely Mariah. She told me I will die three times now and I'm still here." He always ended conversations with a joke when he grew tired of talking. Being the positive, lovely old man that he was, it was probably terribly exhausting to talk about less positive matters. It must be nice to be happy with everything that life presented you.

"You're right.", I gave in and thanked him again for the sweets before I left.

This night I lay in bed way too long. My parents had a silent fight and then went to bed while I still tossed and turned sleeplessly. At least it gave me a sense of normality to hear them disagree. The only thing I missed in our trailer was Danny's snoring. And what I really missed was knowing Patrick was sleeping just a few trailers next to me. When I finally fell asleep I dreamt weird things about a piano in a house with brick walls and a garden. A house that didn't move and that had big wooden doors. It was always at the same place in the same town with the same people and the same bakery around the corner. And a bedroom with a giant bed that was just for me and... Well it was a good dream.


	8. Revenge & Redemption

Since this Sunday I saved myself from having an awkward encounter with Lucas, I had all the time in the world on my day off. Sunday was resting day on the fairground. For some it meant counting money, others cured their hangover of the night before and for May it was bathing time. All the old paint had to come off and I led her to the next waterhole. It was a fifteen minute march in gleaming heat but her enjoyment was worth it. She loved playing in water, rolling around in the mud and spraying me with water from her trunk. Afterwards the small body of water had lost a few gallons of water but the result was one more happy elephant. Also the result was that I was wet to the bones with dirty water on my white dress. That's why I always wore the same old dress that I mistakenly used for the very first bath of a then angry May and it was ruined ever since.

After May dabbling in water and then resting for two hours we made our way to her wagon. Back at the enclosure I rubbed her with straw to loosen some of the dried dirt and she trumpets like she always does when she enjoys something. She doesn't stop and shuffles away slightly but obvious enough for me to notice her unease. I turn around and see Danny walk towards us. He's so far away that his silhouette blurred under the heat. For a moment it looked like he was a ghost and I dropped my straw and then he waved. My heart stopped and couldn't quite figure out how to work again as I ran toward him. My eyes tearing up and unable to speak I hugged him.

"Hi Annie.", he said breathless from my arms almost crushing him.

"You're back." My words undistinguishable from a sob. "How did you manage to come here? I thought you would never find us again. I'm so glad you're back!" More than once I leaned back to look at him only to pull him into a hug again.

"I thought I lost you when they didn't let me talk to one of you. If it wasn't for Patrick I wouldn't have found you again. He even paid for the fee." Danny muttered and I instantly froze when he mentioned him. "Patrick?"

Danny nodded. "He brought me back here."

"He's here?", I asked under my breath and the world seems to turn again, sending me tumbling.

"He said he had some business to take care off. You should leave him alone for a bit." Danny didn't realize that advising me not to go see Patrick would only make me want to see him more. After all he was only my little brother. He didn't know yet.

"I will be right back. Watch May please. Just a minute.", I yelled over my shoulder already running towards the psychics home, only realizing the pain of my ankle peripherally. It didn't even seem to be a blink of an eye until I was standing in front of the old colourless trailer, franticly knocking at the door. For the small amount of time it took me to get here, waiting until the door was answered took all eternity. I was about to knock again when the door was opened just enough to let a cloud of smoke out. I knew I was being eyed by Patrick's father. "Is Patrick home?" My voice breathless and ecstatic. He closed the door on me.

"Please. I just want to speak to him." Hope suddenly crushed by a door but I was not giving up.

"Go spread your legs elsewhere!", he yelled from inside and dragged down the shutters. I stepped back and Harald's words about everyone wanting a family came back to my mind.

In the corner of my eyes I saw a figure distinguishing itself from the shadow of the backside of the trailer. "I'm here, Angela."

Patrick's hair was the only thing touched by sunlight and it made him look like it was burning. The dark shadow he was standing in made him look endlessly tired. Or was it just the shadows. He held a little ice cube in his right hand that tripped water on the dried grass.

"You're here." I breathed, only repeating what he had sad because my brain couldn't work for more.

"That's what I said.", he grinned and held the ice cube to his right eye again. Not only the shadows that darkened his face.

I stepped closer examining the red circle that nearly enclosed all his eye. Icy water drops rolling down his cheek made it almost look like he was crying. "What happened to you?"

"I wanted to ask you the same. Did you mud wrestle with someone and not invite me?" He grinned to mask the fact that he was in the process of developing a black eye.

"Let me see.", I demanded more than I asked and his grin was stopped with a sharp hiss as I just lightly touched the surrounding of his eye.

"Sorry." I muttered and lead his hand with the ice cube just a smudge higher where he had not yet cooled.

"But you really look all muddy and sheer in that white dress." A little smirk was coming back to his lips.

"You should watch your words so you don't need a second ice cube, Paddy." A joke made only to keep the beautiful curve on his lips and I succeeded. Moments passed while I pretended to look at his black eye until I finally brought myself to admit: "It's great to have you here again."

He smiled and awkwardly looked around. "So where's our guy... what was his name? Lucas?"

"He's not here.", I answered, suddenly hit by the embarrassment that I had no time for back then.

"Ah. I noticed he was a bad kisser. Great that you dodged that." He patted me on my shoulder like he did with Danny and disappeared behind the trailer again. Dumbfounded I was left behind alone in my wet dress with mud in my hair and cold fingertips where they had been touching his cheek only a minute ago.

"Patrick! Where are you going?" Even more embarrassed I followed him limping more than before from the running I did.

I found Patrick almost lost in a Box that leaned against the trailer. The Ice cube dropped on the ground.

"Emergency blanket in case I need to sleep outside. Thought you might want to cover yourself. You make me -", he stopped mid-sentence to give me the bundle of an old blanket.

He doesn't seem to want to commence with what he started even after I took the blanket. "I make you what?"

He even helped me wrap it around myself without once looking at me. Finally when I was wrapped to his contentment he resumed: "I can't think." And that was it. He stood and stared at me like I assume he does with his costumers to guess what they want to hear.

"Do I make you nervous?", I asked making myself nervous and my heart suddenly warmed uncomfortably.

"No.", he sneered elaborately and looked to the left, then to the right and finally on my foot. "What happened to your ankle?" He didn't make eye contact again. Just stared at my dirty naked feet.

I sighed, tried to calm myself, suppress the disappointment and think about what to say all at the same time. "A story for a story. How about that?"

"Sounds fair." He agreed and we stood in silent for a moment. Whatever he thought about, the look on his face made me reminisce about the way he had kissed me and the harshness of his lips. It was sad actually that I could only remember the force that he used and not the feeling of the kiss itself. I needed to stop looking at him.

"Should we sit down?", I said eager to change my own thoughts. We sat on the dusty ground.

"So what story do you want to hear?" His voice was unsure and I suddenly knew that he was afraid that I would ask how he got that black eye. So I didn't. To be really honest I already knew who did it. I just wanted to know why.

"How did you manage to bring Danny back?"

Patrick gave me a side-eyed glance before sighing and he started to relieve the ground of the few grass blades that were left green and healthy. "I hitchhiked back, spoke to the police, got him out and we took a few buses. That's it, no big deal."

He must have felt my suspicious look because he felt the need to explain: "And no I didn't break him out of prison. It was all legally managed. For the most part at least." I let that last sentence slide.

"How did you manage to convince the police to let him go? They had a whole list of fees he needed to pay for."

"Do you really want to know?" He eyed me again, not really daring to look at me straight on. Now that he asked, I didn't know if I really wanted to know every detail. I liked the image I had of him now and didn't want it destroyed. But I didn't say no.

"I paid what I could and made a deal with the sheriff. I helped him talk to his late daughter and he let Danny go with a smaller fee so we could take the bus back here. We probably wouldn't have made it in time otherwise. You would have left. I had to do it." He got agitated towards the end although I didn't say a thing. I couldn't be angry. Everything I felt was gratitude for what he did.

"I know." My hand reached out to his automatically. Even if I wanted to stop it, I realized to late that my fingers touched the back of his hand. He froze. "Thank you."

When he didn't move nor look at me, I retreated.

"It was nothing.", he joked again with a laugh that could've passed as a sneer as well.

"How did you manage to get so much money so fast?" I almost didn't want to ask but his answer came fast. Almost too fast for it to be cast aside as not emotional which was what he was probably going for.

"A while ago I've found some extra money under the floorboards where my dad hides his bottles. It's all money that I had earned anyway so I took it. He wasn't really happy about it in hindsight." He smiled but his eyes didn't smile with his lips.

"Did he-"

Instantly Patrick sat straight and interrupted: "It was an accident."

"Okay." was all I could say. Silence it was again. I wanted to hug him but considering he froze just because I touched his hand, I was scared. We were finally talking and no one was angry. I didn't want to ruin it.

He gave me all the answers and now it was time for me to keep my side of the bargain.

"Do you want to know what happened to my ankle?" I asked shy and timid. Rather unlike me. But it was unlike him to be silent too, so we were both the same childish idiots.

He nodded visibly relieved and turned to face me destroying the pile of grass he had carefully structured before.

"The day you left I presented my new routine at the show. The last jump didn't go well and I rolled my ankle." I almost feel bad to give him such a short, boring story in exchange for his secret.

"Can I see?"

Reluctantly I shifted and again exposed my dirty feet to him. He delicately touched the soft skin on the side of my ankle. He leaned closer shielding my view from what he did. His fingers caressed my skin and I had to resist the urge to pull away. He did not stop touching me when he said: "It doesn't look fractured so you should be fine if you don't move it too much." I could see every single detail of his face because he was only inches away from me when he looked back up.

"Well it's too late for that." My panicked giggle triggered a jerk of his lips that wasn't really a smile but close enough. I needed to force myself to get my thoughts together.

"I did the show yesterday and I ran here.", I explained calmer than before.

"You ran here?"

"I did."

"Why?"

This was it. This was what it should have felt like. The excitement and the tingling on my skin from where he touched me. The beating heart and the sweaty hands. I leaned in to kiss him. We looked at each other. I smelled the salt on his skin, saw the blue spots in his eyes. He didn't move. He also didn't breath which was fine because I didn't either. But he didn't move. He just sat there and stared at me. My lips almost touching his and he did not budge. I waited for as long as I could right to the point before tears started to dwell because he took so long.

Then I let out the breath I was holding and slowly collapsed into myself. He didn't kiss me. He didn't want to kiss me. Maybe it had been only revenge. Just revenge. Nothing more. He saw me crumple and he watched me pick up my pieces and he did all that with a straight face.

"Sorry.", I said and I let the pride that I didn't break down completely keep my head up. "That was dumb. I will get going." I didn't realize that I had gotten up, stealing my foot from his hands. He didn't look at me. I walked backwards to see if he reacted at all. He didn't. His hand rested where my foot had been. Only when I was around the corner, I heard him call out to me: "Bye."

My pride carried me home and I didn't cry. I even talked to my parents about the show tomorrow. They didn't suspect anything. I functioned for the whole day. By night came the dream and the house and our bedroom. And into the bedroom he comes, telling me he didn't want me; it was relief and it was pain.


	9. Landing

It took a week for my ankle to feel improved enough to continue my new routine again. Like I had predicted visitor counts went down but not as bad as we all feared. Also Lucas visited every other day after I didn't show up to church that Sunday. He flirted and I let him but we never kissed again. I gave up asking myself what he waited for and started to be glad he didn't make a move. Patrick had started and continued to embarrass me with the small talk he tried to have over the course of the week and we never talked about what I'd done. Everything was as though nothing had ever happened. In a way it was calming and in a way sitting on my elephant in the middle of a crowd again made me feel eerie, like a living déjà-vu. May did a roll while I tried to stay on top of her and I focused everything I had on willing my ankle to support itself. One pose later I was balancing myself on one hand on top of her back. I jumped off, did a flip and landed and I crashed to the ground. For a second it felt like my foot sunk into the sand of the ring and that's what made me stumble but then the pain hit. Everything was blurry. I only noticed that people had clapped until they stopped and commotion rushed through the crowd. Suddenly I was scared of being trampled to death. Unreasonable. The pain clouded my mind. I cried. Maybe I screamed; I couldn't tell. Something screamed at me. I tried to cover my leg, as well as I tried to reach for May so she wouldn't freak out. I reached into thin air. Panicked I looked up and saw blurry people hurry over the circus ring, dragging May away. I reached again and found someone's hand. It grasped mine tight. Little needles pricked my skin. I let my forehead hit the sand when something moved my leg. Dizziness. Voices yelled at each other, muffled by a scream.

They couldn't take May away.  
"Leave her with me!", I cried and looked out for her with out of focus eyes.

"May is safe. Everything will be okay." Warm words were whispered into my ear. I barely understood them.

"We will carry you out." Another much more anxious voice called to me. Hands lifted me and I screamed. They should just leave me here. Leave me to the pain. They only made it worse. I waved at them. Not really with the intention of hitting them but like you would fan away flies.

"Look at me."

I looked and golden locks fell into view. Quick hands taking off my headpiece. Gentle fingers wiping sand off of my cheeks.

"Annie, listen to me. I will carry you now. We need to get you to the hospital."

"Please don't." Tears sticking new grains of sand to my skin. I didn't want to be left behind. Mariah couldn't be right for once. Not with me. Please not.

"Annie, it will be okay. I promise." Strong arms lifted me and I hissed into a rough shirt. My eyes closed. The smell... almost like when he came into our bedroom and told me he didn't want me.

The outside was cold. I thought I forgot what cold felt like over the months and months of burning summer but this was it. Freezing and shaking. Cold. His chest heaved. I grabbed his shirt when he tripped a little. I didn't let go again. Everything was coldness, just he was warmth and I tried to crawl into him, slowly disappearing. My mind spinning into nothingness.

"You need to let go just for a moment." Whispers. I was left and then another warmth held my head while I was laid down. Voices talked. Hands on me changed and I could smell him being near me again. My head lay on his lab, his arm surrounding me.

"I'm back. I have you.", he breathed. I looked up at him, seeing clearer. He ordered the driver of the car to start and looked out of the window while always stroking my forehead. From down here he looked impossibly worried. But that can't be because he was never worried. At least he didn't show it like that.

I whizzed of pain when the car was startled to life. Too much movement. Too fast.

"I'm here. Don't worry." Patrick's voice was the only noise that got through to me. There was no sound of the car or the radio. No wind banging against the glass. No melody of freshly starting rain. I knew he looked at me even if my eyes were watery and blurred again. I felt him.

"Annie, you need to keep your eyes open, okay?" I didn't even know my eyes were closed until he said it. "You hit your head a little." His voice was muffled. I tried to nod but I wasn't sure if I moved my head or not. First I tried to look at him, at the smile he gave me that was so reassuringly soft. But my lids were heavy so I figured the window would be a good place to stare at, too. I didn't see anything at all apart from the lilac grey sky and the raindrops on the glass that I didn't hear. Everything was silent. The world stood still. Not even Patrick breathed. I didn't breath. I just hovered in nothingness and dark skies and purple rain.


	10. Dreams

I opened my eyes to a dark bedroom. Heavy curtains covered the windows like the wood covered the walls. They were almost successful on keeping all the light outside but for one small crack in the dark where the sun crawled in. It smelled weirdly sterile for a house as old as this seems to be with the dust dancing in the small spot of sunlight. Nothing about this room seemed antiseptic. I sat on the side of the bed I was previously lying on and it was painfully slow. Still it didn't feel like I moved my body at all. I still felt the pressure of the mattress on my back. It was at this moment that I recognized this was a dream. A very lively one for sure but still a dream. I smiled. My feet touched the floor and I was positively surprised that my foot didn't hurt. Nothing hurt. I couldn't wait to see what this house would look like. I merely always dreamed of this one room of our future home. Strange that it was always the same dream, almost like Mariah's dreams. If it is always the same dream then it's not just a dream, she used to say. At least that's what she believed in.

I didn't realize I walked across the room before I reached the door. The possible future lies beyond it and I wanted to take a glimpse so badly. I wanted to see what the colours of our future would be, what pictures would hang on the wall, I wanted to see where we would live, what the outside was like. I chose to ignore the fact that in my last dream Patrick had told me that he didn't want me. It was just once. So it's not true.

Somehow I knew the rules of this reality. The curtains couldn't be opened. So I didn't. Instead I opened the door to a brighter empty corridor and I walked down the stairs slowly as I reached the only picture that hung on the walls so far. One faded picture of Danny in front of a Ferris wheel. It once had brighter colours with more life in them but it seemed like that life was long lost. I continued my way downstairs with my fingers on the handrail, feeling every small bump until the downstairs area opened up beneath the first floor walls. It was one big open room. Couches scattered to the right. Big shelves full of books covering the walls. To the left an area that I couldn't really see. I also didn't want to. Because there was the entrance door. A blank door to the outside and I went straight towards it. My hand already on the doorknob when I realized it was slippery. I winced as if little needle pricks stung my fingertips and pulled the hand back. There was red all over it where I had touched the doorknob. It was a special kind of red. Deep and shiny. Almost warm. The more I tried to rub it off, the more it seemed to spread, never really losing its shine. I shivered even before things changed. The curtains I didn't realize were closed before, now let all the sunlight from the outside in, blinding the eyes from looking at the world beyond, but never hurting. Nothing here hurt. I heard shuffling behind me. Turning around I didn't see anything different. Just the kitchen, too new for the rest of the old house. Like from another time. Something fell. I knew I heard it fall and hit the ground but I couldn't see it. Like it didn't want to be seen. Suddenly I felt something caress my hand and when I looked at it, the red was gone, only leaving my sweat behind. I ignored my frantically beating heart to look up the stairs. The door to the bedroom was closed, other doors barely existed. Nothing had changed.

My heart pounded as I turned around again.

"You visit me again.", a somehow familiar voice said. Familiar but different. And I really had to concentrate to see where it came from. When I looked hard enough, I saw him lying on one of the couches or sitting on the kitchen table or slouching on a not so comfortable looking chair. It was Patrick but older. Familiar but not really.

"You don't have to imagine me. I'm right here.", he said again now standing right next to me, comfortably uncomfortably close, looking at where the other images of him had been. "Although you did a very good job. They all looked almost like me."

I stared at him. He had small creases on his forehead and around his eyes. The creases that in reality only appear when he smiles. Although his eyes are the same, he seemed to have change a lot. The Patrick I knew would never wear a suit, but he already has his hands in his pockets whenever possible.

"Am I not imagining you, too?" I ask, looking at the empty room, hoping to see what he sees.

"How old do you think I am?" He doesn't look at me. "Maybe 40ish? We will see if I look like this when I really am. It wouldn't be that bad at least. You imagined me very good-looking."

I chuckled while all he did was smile to himself.

"Do you know what I will look like when I'm older?" My question was shyly spoken because if this Patrick is anything like mine, he would see through my attempt to lure some information out of him.

He turned to me and explored my face with his eyes. Not giving away anything. Patrick will obviously get better at that too. "Well you have always been the prettiest girl with your small freckles and bold probably won't change once you're a woman."

I frowned, not really content with his answer.

"You know what also won't change? You trying to trick me into saying things I actually wanted to keep from you. You will also get better at that. But I guess that's what you needed to do with someone like me." Shame clouded my brain for a short time until it was chased away by his following smile. He walked towards the couches and sat down. I followed.

After a long time of silence while he only smiled at me, I finally said: "I have so many questions."

"And I can answer none of them." He stretched his arms and laid them to rest on his lap again.

"Why are you here then?" Normally I would get annoyed but this time I was too intrigued to be anything but that.

"You summoned me here. I know why, actually, but I won't do any of that. That's what the other one is for. You should explore together, not cheating like this." His grin made me blush. And suddenly the reality of what I was doing hit me. I was not talking to him, only to a subconscious thought. Nothing was real. That's when his face went blank and he stared at something behind me, further down in the kitchen. Something shattered and the shock of it made me jump to my feet. Nothing was there, but this Patrick didn't stop staring.

"What are you staring at?" My voice was noticeably shaking. He didn't answer. His eyes tearing up.

"Patrick, what are you looking at?" I couldn't slow my rapid breathing. If anything was normal here, I would run to the door but nothing was normal and I couldn't move.

"You know I must go!" His voice was angry now.

"I know. But why now?", I answered. He didn't react, angrily pacing the room.

"I have told you about this a month ago and only now you say I shouldn't do it? The moment I was going out the door. Are you serious?" He pauses as if he waited for an answer.

"Please, try to understand. This could be it. This could make me famous. We will never have to worry about anything again!" He grabbed and shook the air lightly like it were someone's shoulders. Silence. And he let out a sigh, shaking his head, letting go of whatever he thought he was holding.

"Patrick, you're creeping me out." I almost whispered and he didn't react.

"Don't be ridiculous. Nothing will happen and I need to do this. For us. - I want to do this."

He turned around and for a moment it seemed like he was looking at me but actually he was heading to the door, not granting me one glance. Out of his suit's inner pockets he pulled a single match. Something crashed again. He looked back at me, ignited the match out of nowhere and threw it in my direction. I couldn't move. The moment the match hit the ground, the whole room lit up and he was out the door.

For a moment I was scared to death, afraid to burn, afraid of pain.

 _Nothing is real_ , I murmured to myself over and over again, closing my eyes, trying to wake up. I felt the heat on my arms. _Just a dream._

No one ever tells you how to wake up. If my future will be like this it could very well stay a dream please. Or I didn't want to know. _Wake up_.

I concentrated so much that it hurt, or was it the imaginary flames? Imaginary flames that smelled nothing like flames but all like disinfectant and I concentrated on that, on the real world.  
I woke up.

With my eyes fluttering, there was light. Bright light reflected by faint yellow walls. No one else was here but me. Suddenly I was wide awake. Trying to sit up, feeling dizzy. A monitor beeping loudly. They couldn't have left me here alone, could they? Tears welled faster than my thoughts went on.

I didn't know our next destination. -

The show never stops. -

The travelling can't be delayed. -

How long have I been here sleeping? It was daytime already. They wouldn't leave me here, I tried to tell myself. Pictures of me trying to survive on my own flooded my mind. Trying to earn money with a normal job. I didn't know anything about normal life.

A nurse came rushing into my hospital room.

"Don't get up just now, dear. You've been unconscious for a while.", she said in a comforting tone but it only made me even more upset. I almost couldn't speak because of all the sobbing.

"Did they leave without me?"

"No, dear. Two handsome young men took turns watching over you while you slept. I'm sure they will be back soon. They would surely never leave you alone. I just shooed them away for a few hours so you could get some real rest." The nurse gently guided me to lie back down again and tapped on the monitor, instantly calming the beeping noise.  
"How long have I been unconscious?"

"Not even a whole two days. Your accident was only the day before yesterday." Her smile seemed so nice that it was hard to be upset when she was talking. "You hit your head quite a bit. I will leave you a basin in case you feel nauseous."

"When can I go home?" I tried to dry my tears but they wouldn't stop.

"I don't know. It will take some time to get you back on your feet again, after what happened." The nurse turned and was out the door before I could ask how serious it was. I was alone again, left to watch the sun go down for hours.


	11. Roads

I woke up in what seemed like the middle of the night with Patrick huddled in a lump in a chair beside the window. Obviously sleeping although I didn't know how he managed falling asleep like that. His whole body was covered in shadows, escaping all the small streaks of moonlight that managed to get through the blinds. His unruly hair was the only thing that gave him away. And the ability to sleep in every weird, small space imaginable.

My stomach cramped and before I was fully awake, I was already frantically searching for the basin the nurse had left on my bed stand. Trying to be quiet as well as fast, fumbling with all the dark things I couldn't identify. I just heard the noise of one falling to the ground and breaking. Probably a cup of tea I had never touched before. Finally I found the basin, only recognizing it by the brownish grey feel it had. Patrick moved and I stared back when he looked at me. Until I couldn't because my body forced me to heaved up everything I couldn't even remember eating in a really unpleasant way. Not the normal unpleasant way but in a way that made me think about how bad exactly it must be for him to wake up to me heaving in his direction.

"Sorry.", I managed to get out in between other things. It was less speaking and more bawling, too. Now I spent forever wondering if I should have just stayed quiet. But it wasn't really forever because I noticed he had gotten up and now his cold hands tucked my hair behind my neck and kept it there. I welcomed the cold with everything I still managed to be and let it wash away the thoughts. The cold and the dark hugged me in a good way; His fingers touched my neck in a good way. It made bad ways a little better. And his voice when he mumbled words into the cold turned everything around. It was still bad but only normal bad: Only bad while still feeling save and cherished.

At last I stopped vomiting and his voice started to get clearer.

"I'm here. Always will be. Promise."

From the tone of his voice I knew that he was more talking to himself than to me.

"Sorry.", was what I said again as soon as I could speak again.

"Don't. I will get you water. Don't get up. There are shards everywhere." He made me tuck my feet back into the bed and before I could protest he left with the basin and came back with a fresh glass of water and a new one.

"I called for the nurse.", he explained while picking up pieces of a teacup. "She wanted to examine you when you show signs of a concussion again."

"You don't have to do that." My hand reached out to him as if I could reach his shoulder to stop him from caring so much. Seeing him care so much made me imagine things that would probably never happen. I didn't want to go down that road again that he seemed to navigate so easily. He jumped from being on track right next to me, to coming dangerously close, to not being on the same road as me at all. I didn't know what he wanted. Well I did know what he didn't want. He wanted anything but me at the moment since he didn't kiss me when I clearly gave him the chance. But I also couldn't keep wondering on what road he was and carefully nourishing my hopes only to have them crushed again.

I tried a light hearted voice: "You really don't. It's not like you're my..." I tried to make it sound nice but however I turned it in my head, nothing good came out of it.

He stopped in his movement and met my gaze. He looked weird. Hurt. Like I really had said what I wanted to and didn't manage to make it not sound hurtful.

"You should rest. We will talk some other time." And the hurting was gone as fast as it had come and he was back to picking up the pieces.

There it was again. The tingling in my chest that spread dangerously close to my head and then it got into my mind before safety measures could be taken. I even felt it in my fingertips. I was on the road again. It would be a short ride until tomorrow when I would ask him to talk. But it was still violent and wild and it would leave me insane for sure some day. And the worst part was that I loved every single needle prick of the tingles that doomed me to hope for something better and more of him. I wanted to lean into this road and let it be my everything.

The nurse came in and talked and hurt my eyes with bright lights but most of all she disturbed the small lair of hopefulness that had covered Patrick an me. I tried to catch his eyes but he did his best to ignore me. He left because of some examination the nurse had to do because she seemed to fear for my modesty. He didn't come back until I was asleep again.

Some other time came the next day when Danny left for dinner at home with our parents and Patrick had no such obligations. We sat in silence and waited for the nurse of the day to bring my dinner. She had promised me some real food today, not only tasteless soup but just in case Danny had brought me some croissants from the local market. Bought with his own money, he had promised. Honestly I would have eaten them either way because I was starving.

The nurse came in and brought two trays of dinner. Patrick had all the nurses charmed with his smile and the tingles raged inside my chest.

We ate in silence and I started to be thankful for the absence of forced small talk. It was mere minutes until Patrick chose to break the silence.

"Your guy seems to be worried. He asked how you were multiple times."

"When?" I asked, probably too fast for Patrick's liking because he couldn't keep his brows from showing a bit of his disappointment.

"Few days ago. Two days ago. Yesterday. Today. He seems to be a bit clingy." Patrick smiled and his expression was too elaborate for it to be honest.

Tingles. I smiled. Not because of Lucas. But because of Patrick being jealous and the fact that he's trying to hide it. And terribly failing of course.

It was only a matter of time until he crashed his car off my road and I would be left to wonder where he and I took different turns. The tingles made me not care enough.

"What should I tell him?" He asked and stuffed his face with carrots for deflecting reasons.

It was the same games on the same road with the same ending in sight. But I sighed and played along, wondering if he knew what he did or if it was mere accidents to crush me like he did.

"I don't know any more. You tell me."

Staring.

Seems like I broke the game. Might as well make it unrepairable.

"Why don't you kiss me when Lucas is not around?" Somehow tears thought it was a good idea to mingle in the corner of my eyes. I couldn't see him on this road any more. His face told me he himself didn't know on what road he was supposed to be. And I, if I didn't constantly tell myself that it was better to know the truth, I almost regretted asking.

He laughed and it felt like cutting every tingle out of my body separately.

"You know why." His smile was relentless.

"Yes. But I don't understand why you behave as if you care about me if you don't want me."

His face blanked while I tried really hard to blink some misbehaving tears away.

The door opened with a bang but we didn't move, we didn't wince, we didn't blink. I wished for one second that he would tell me what was going through his head just once. Then he darted forward and it felt like he was about to kiss me, but his lips never touched mine. One blink after that, he was sitting in his chair again and a tear rolled from my lashes.

"Evening, my children. I brought some food for my poor sweetheart. I thought you were surely hungry. This country doesn't cater good hospital food." Mariah was busy, planting a plastic bag on my bedside table. "Oh sweetheart, what's wrong? Bad news? Tell me everything!"

"Nothing. No bad news. They said I could go home any day now. Good to see you." I dried my tear while she hugged me extensively.

"That's great! No need to be so grumpy. My hot dogs will cheer you up." She said and nonchalantly placed one in front of me, ignoring the other plate. "And you, Jane, you look like you've seen a ghost."

It took Patrick not one second to have a sassy response to that. "I'm a psychic. That's my job."

Mariah shot him a look that could have meant anything from a warning to acknowledgement and she turned to me again, ready to say something, when Patrick opened his mouth again.

"I should leave."


	12. Palm reading

That night I fell asleep alone and the night passed without mending the wrongs and without granting me company. In the morning doctors told me I could leave the hospital which was great but they also said if I stumbled again I would break my ankle for good and I should rest for at least a month. They didn't understand why I didn't go head over heals out of joy. I didn't explain. They didn't know carny life. They probably never will and telling them anything close to what goes on at the carnival would only endanger our family. After I got my blood checked again, my parents picked me up in someone else's car because we only had the trailer that didn't just move like that. It had its place until we forced it elsewhere. Sometimes I wished I could just settle somewhere and stay like that. Grow my roots and never budge. What a wild imagination it was. To stay somewhere. No fear of getting left behind. No packing up every little thing you own to strap it to the trailer top and leave that place like you hadn't even been there. Like you hadn't existed.

That evening no one expected me to perform and I was grateful for this one evening of not worrying. I already counted the hours until I pressured myself into entering the stage again, way too early, way too scared. Fear was something that cursed your performance. There was barely a good kind of fear but being scared of making oneself useless in this life was the worst of them all. Useless people get left behind. Unless you're Alex Jane of course. Then you get dragged along for all eternity because your son earns the money this fair really needs.

Fear was mostly disarming and strangling for me. Unless it was this special kind of anguish of mine when it came to Patrick. The whole day I've been turning thoughts over in my mind. The whole point I always came to was that I needed to know. I needed him to say whatever he was keeping back. Even if it meant that I would have to get rid of the dreams I had of him, the hopes and the feelings. Because we both knew that he didn't expose everything that was going on. He just always seemed to run for his life when I asked too many questions. I needed to know.

My heart beat only thinking about looking him in the eyes and demanding an answer to the question that floated all around us every second we spent together.

In front of my eyes, my parents performed their trapeze act like they had for at least 20 years. It was nothing new, nothing that should spark excitement in my soul quite like it did. But it made me think back to the time when I was only just able to ride my bicycle and I used to tiptoe into every evening show. It was the greatest for me to watch them perform and I remember how I used to fantasize about what would be my big act. Me taming lions, riding a dozen white horses into the arena or hanging mid-air only clinging to a long scarf, from toes to hairline covered in glitter. There was a whole lot of stuff I dreamed about doing but never pursued.

My ma threw herself at my dad and he caught her with only one hand. People gasped. They swung a few times together until my ma pulled herself up to stand on the swing.

The fireworks they recently added to the show went off and the crowd cheered dutifully. My heart beat and somehow I knew now was the time. I made my way outside through the performer entrance and was greeted by warm rain. Even though it was the same rain from a few days ago, since it had never really stopped, it felt more pleasant now. I wrapped the big fringed scarf tightly around my shoulders anyway. I was already cold enough being barefoot because I didn't fit into any shoes with my bad foot and the fairground had turned into a mudslide after all. Every time someone had asked I joked about how the mud cooled my ankle best. No one ought to know that I only had one pair of shoes that I didn't want to ruin.

My heartbeat was dangerously irregular and I stopped to close my eyes. It will never get worse. It can't get worse than hoping but never knowing.

The raindrops caressed my skin and soaked through my scarf and dress. I held my breath. My feet sank into the mud and I heard the raindrops crash all around me. Everything seemed so clear. The lights were brighter and the cold icier. The music played louder and the tingles in my veins felt like an adrenaline rush, flushing my cheeks and rattling my fingers. I breathed.

My feet lead me to Patrick's tent before I could even think about it. He hadn't been at the performance so I suspected he hid there. His father had him perform in a small tent that assured only Patrick and his client would be able to attend. Fewer eyes helped keeping up the magic. There was no way to knock so I just stepped inside. It was dark inside with a strong smell of candles and only enough space for a small table and two chairs. Patrick was barely visible in the dark back of the tent. I suppose he leant back in a chair because I could only see his legs on the table, unbothered by the dirty shoes. I don't know why but it was terrible seeing him here. All the candles and the colourful tapestry, pillows and the fur on the floor didn't fit him. The lack of me seeing his face made it feel like I just entered his prison. It made it hard to talk. I didn't know what to say so I just sat down opposite to him. He inched his legs off the table. No words were spoken. It took an eternity for him to straighten himself and shift his chair closer so the light reached him. He put down an old book besides the candles and rested his bare elbows on the table surface. The shirt's sleeves rolled up. His hair messy. His eyes tried to read me but he couldn't because I didn't know what I was up to myself. There was still a faint yellow stain around his eye.

I put my hand palm upwards in front of him. He looked at it and his breathing turned erratic. I could feel the warmth of his arms from where my fingers rested but I didn't touch him. I stuck out his long pondering and he endured his skin so close to mine. None of us dared to save us from this tension.

"Why are you here?" he finally said faintly but with enough undertone to make me question what I did to him. I couldn't tell if he was annoyed or scared. It all seemed to be the same. But I had to know. I silence my pride because I needed this. No matter what he will think of me in the future. At least I was brave enough to pursue what I dreamed of this time.

"I want you to read my future." I was a little bit proud of my stern voice while my inner self was burned up and consumed by tingles.

Patrick leant back and hid himself in the shadows again without his arms leaving the closeness of my hand. "You know I can't do that." He didn't only sound offended but also disappointed in me and it made me blush involuntarily. I thanked god for the tent being only lit by a few candles.

"I think this time you can. After all you're a psychic, that's your job." My voice needed to get it together again. He sighed and roughly pulled my hand closer to him. But that was the only thing he managed to do indelicately. His fingers gently exposed my wrist to him and he remained a firm grasp with his thumb below the heel of my hand. Tingles raged under my skin.

Everything he is told me that he needed to force himself to look me in the eyes.

"What do you want to know?"

"I had a reoccurring dream for the last few weeks and I want to know if it will be my future." Only thinking about it made my heart beat and my mouth dry.

"The dream was about something that is very important to you." He didn't ask but stated facts. I did my best not to show any emotion and not to reassure anything he would say.

"About family." He pressed on. "And your future life."

He let his unoccupied fingers caress the lines on my palm. "You are restless and search for answers desperately. So desperately that you overlook the obvious truths."

He gave me a covert glance, obviously searching for a reaction.

"What truths?" My voice quavered because of his gentle touches.

"That the future is not meant to be seen and that some secrets are only there to protect and not to hurt you."

I clench my teeth and stopped breathing for a moment. My fingertips started to prickle from lack of blood because of his grip. He tried to hide the shaking of his hand with movement but he didn't fool me.

"But what if I need to know?"

He recollected himself and remembered the first question I had.

"You need to share the details of your dream if you need me to interpret it." Deflection is what he mastered with sublime skill.

"No." Sadness flooded me.

"Are we done here then?" His voice grew impatient but his eyes proved him a liar. He didn't leave our touch.

"No. I have a second question."

He avoided my glance but I didn't back up. This one time he can't run from answering a question.

"How do you know when someone is not really saying what they want to say?" I found my stern voice again somewhere in the fear.

He loosened his grip on my wrist and it felt like he wanted to let go. I could only just manage to not grab his hand to keep him here. He stayed with me in person and in thought. Although he resigned his palm reading act and retreated the hand that wasn't holding my wrist to rest the weight of his sorrows on his elbow again. He leaned in closer, more out of nervousness than for closeness sake.

"Their pulse increases and they watch their wording more carefully."

I reached out carefully to grab his wrist like he did with mine and mirrored the position on the table. He let it happen without any resistance but a lot of doubt on his face.

"Then tell me the truth, Patrick. Not the future but the truth of right now."

He stared at our hands. "What do you want to hear?" The first question he asked tonight.

"The truth about this." He didn't say anything.

"Your pulse is fast, your hands are sweaty. You don't say anything at all. What is it that you don't tell me?" For some reason I had thought it would work like this and I got angry when it didn't.

"I don't know what to tell you, Angela. I don't know what you want to hear." His voice was sharp and too loud for a small tent. "Is it about the kiss? I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that. I know I can't take it back even though I wish I could."

The tingles subsided and left me shaking and cold. Of all the thinking I did, I never imagined what I would say if he rejected me again.


	13. Pulse

"Why did you kiss me in the first place?" My voice was only a whisper. I didn't even consciously think about what to say. It happened while I was internally screaming at myself for making me and him go through this ordeal.

"Why do you want to know everything? Can't you just leave this one secret to me? It's already hard enough seeing him around every day and you make it even harder by showing up in wet dresses, looking breathtakingly beautiful, always demanding. I don't know what you want to hear, Angela. I can't congratulate you on him because I know the whole thing is only going to hurt you. But I can't advise against it, either, because it wouldn't be without ulterior motives and probably only for personal desires. I try really hard to do the right thing here."

I couldn't feel his pulse any more. It's like my whole body went numb. Of all the reasons I didn't think for one second this was it. He never seemed to care much about rules. Even less when the rules keep him from something he wanted.

"Did you want to kiss me?" I somehow managed to utter. His face was more serious than I had ever seen him. I couldn't believe that I actually had the courage to ask this.

His thumb stroked the delicate skin on the inside of my wrist.

"You want me to kiss you." He didn't ask, only stated again and he seemed to take the sight of me in for the first time in long. His lips twitched and showed a smirk only for the blink of an eye.

"Of course." A painful prickling sensation in my nose made it hard to breath. "I wanted you to kiss me since you returned. I wanted you to kiss me in the forest and in the hospital. I wanted to kiss you behind your trailer." His eyes glowed and his thumb never stopped caressing my skin. "What do you think I was trying to do?"

"I knew that that guy was still around and I didn't want take what wasn't mine and didn't want to be mine."

I looked at our hands now loosely entwined but always seeking touch. Guilt almost made me cry.

"But I can promise you that I will kiss you in every single one of those places if you let me." He leaned forward, guided my hand to his lips and pressed a warm kiss on my fingers. "Except for the hospital maybe."

I laughed a little and looked at him again. His eyes were bright and I wanted to be close to him and this brightness more than anything. My cheeks were burning but I didn't care. His voice was genuinely kind while also slowly setting me on fire with the allusive undertones hidden in every extensive pause.

"I won't kiss you now, though; I want it to be special. After all it has to make up for a lot of wasted opportunities and a rudely stolen kiss." He smiled gently and kissed another one of my fingers again.

I cursed the table for standing between us. Voices outside grew in volume and disturbed us in our dark hiding spot. Now was not the time, I reminded my longing. I forced myself to accept the inevitable and mentally prepared my knees for their task of carrying me outside again. There was nothing I despised more at the moment.

"Your clients are waiting." I said under my breath. Somehow we were only inches away from each other. He scanned my face like he won't be able to lay eyes on me for weeks.

"Sorry." He mouthed even though I wasn't angry. We both knew this life. Earning money was all that counted, all that kept us alive and going. This was not the time to look into each others eyes for hours.

"I understand." I managed to free one of my hands from his grasp and stroked the edge of his jaw lightly. Occasional stubbles and smooth skin. Warmth that he had shared with me on the way to the hospital and that I was granted by the universe to feel in the future.

It almost hurt to stand up and lose his touch. I smiled back at him before I pushed the tent's entrance tarp to the side and walked outside. Immediately I was greeted by soft rain and judging looks of waiting girls in raincoats that eyed me from top to bottom. I chuckled as I walked by barefoot with the mud slurping under my steps. I didn't care. For the first time I truly didn't care. Nothing could take this away from me now. I hugged myself against the cold and embarrassingly imagined how Patrick's hugs would feel like. His touch on me to warm me through my clothes and his touch without them. Blushing and with a silly smile I clumped across the fairground. Walking by crowds of people that I didn't notice, I reached my destination and climbed into Mariah's food truck.

In between customers she kissed me on the cheek. "Hi, honey. Great to have you back.", she said hurried. "What is up with you. You look feverish."

She juggled three orders and knew exactly which one belonged to what costumer.

"Hi! What can I do for you.", she asked the next in line with a smile that she never granted people she knew already. I let her process the missing orders before I answered. Which wasn't to her liking because apparently she was able to have five conversations at once.

"Come on, honey. Don't leave me waiting. Tell me what's up." She had her one hand on her hip, the other wagged a bun in front of me.

"I realized that dreams don't always have to come true.", I answered in a riddle because I was uncomfortable with the old man in a fishing hat staring at me like he wanted to know the secret, too.

"Oh don't hit me with that pessimism. Do I have to bribe you with a hot dog again to get to know what that brain twister meant?" I laughed while she was playfully angry with me and didn't manage to switch to costumer mode again in time. The old man looked petrified when she talked to him with the same act.

Mariah laughed it off with her charm and served me and the costumer a hot dog. When she was done with serving and the queue slowly dissolved, she turned to me again. I had already taken place on a stool next to the door.

"I mean I love that you visit me but couldn't you leave the dirt outside?"

I chuckled as I took a bite.

"Well. What was that about dreams and you not being able to stop smiling again?"

"I had reoccurring nightmares but they turned out to be false."

She looked at me with a blank stare and her smile was gone completely. "What did you dream?"

"I used to dream that I would be rejected but turned out he did not. Also a house burnt down. But that's impossible anyways."

"Who are we speaking of again?" She turned into mum mode again, arms crossed and leaning against the counter with her hips only. But I was too busy with my own thoughts to really answer her question.

"He was there in my dream house waiting for me every night but all grown up and old. Still handsome and all. And he told me stuff about the future. Well not really. He didn't mean to. But every time he would burn down the house after having a fight with himself." Her look became weirder and weirder the more I told her until it made me stop. "What?"

"You sound a tiny little bit crazy, sweetheart." Mariah's eyebrow was pulled up to a level that I didn't think was possible to maintain for that long.

"You tell me how I die and I'm the crazy one?"

"First of all. I didn't say you'll die. I only said you'll get hurt." When she didn't have a bun to wag in front of me she used her index finger. "And yes. I assume we talk about Patrick, right? Imagining a grown-up Patrick in your dreams who also burns your house down sounds weird even for me."

"What do you think it means?" I won't let her bring me down. Not this night.

"It can have different meanings. It could mean that he destroys you in the future or that you have passion for him that you try to suppress. - Oh don't look at me like that! Dream interpretation is a difficult subject."

"It's a very vague subject if you ask me." I laugh and gulped down the last bites of hot dog. She rolled her eyes.

"So what changed your mind about him and your dream prophecies?"

"Well he didn't reject me this time." I said with a big smile until I saw a figure walking towards us in the corner of my eyes. Everything outside was dark but I recognized the light grey hooded sweater. "Oh no.", was all I said under my breath.


	14. Thyme

"What is it this time?" Mariah sighed and followed my eyes. "Another one?!", her voice outraged.

"Hi, Angela.", Lucas said once he had reached the counter of her food truck. I correct myself. Nothing but him could ruin this night for me.

"Hi.", I replied and looked to Mariah for help. We shared a moment of eye contact before she threw her arms into the air.

"No, that is your problem." She turned to wipe down the surfaces on the other side of the kitchen space. She clearly set her mind to ignoring everything that was going down behind her back.

"Can we talk somewhere else?", Lucas asked slightly bothered, but not bothered enough to leave me be.

Nervously I got up from my stool and went out the door. He met me there and wanted to go elsewhere but I stayed. "Can't we talk here?" My voice was shy. Honestly it wasn't shy but scared because I didn't know how he'd react when I blasted his hopes out of nowhere after raising them for days now. I felt so bad that I couldn't get a word out of my mouth.

"Fine." He was obviously not in the best mood. "Now that you're out of the hospital again, I was wondering if you'd want to meet some of my friends. There's a party tomorrow night down by the pond." He tried to get ahold of my hand but I crossed my arms, pretending to be cold.

My hesitation lowered his mood even more so I figured lingering in this moment of uncertainty would only make things worse.

"Listen, Lucas. I'm sorry but I think we should stop seeing each other. We will break camp in a few days anyway and I will never come here again."

He stared at me dumbstruck. Somehow it appeared to be the only reaction he was capable of having.

Then he fell back into a sort of flirty, grinning persona that had seemed appealing to me a few days ago but didn't anymore. "I know. I don't mind. We could just enjoy ourselves while we can, right?"

I arched my eyebrow. "Enjoy ourselves.", I repeated incapapable of immediately grasping the whole concept of what he was proposing.

He grinned at me like I was slow and finally getting where he was coming from.

"Oh my god. You just want to get into my pants." I exclamated like I just had the most genious idea.

"Well I wouldn't word it like that..." Lucas looked at his feet and around us, nervous that someone might have heard my tantrum.

"So you even confess?" Now I was really getting upset at his impudence. He was not even trying to deny.

"Oh come on. It's not like you are that chaste. You even had another guy kiss you in front of me. You carny folks have loose morals."

In a second of weakness I stared at him open-mouthed, not knowing what to reply to that.

"You should be ashamed of yourself!", I said and turned to get back into the truck again.

"No **you** should be ashamed! I'm not the one having a new man in every city I go to."

I turned to him again only because I debated if it was worth it to hit him in his damn self-assured, grinning face or if that that would lose us some costumers.

"That's right. I heard all about you carny girls. How much will it cost if you don't want to give it for free. All about the money, right?" His provocative grin begged me to slap his arrogant face. I didn't.

"Fuck you, Lucas.", was all I could utter and I closed the truck door behind me as fast as I could.

Mariah looked at me worried.

"What was that all about?"

I slumped against to door. It probably looked a lot cooler than what I actually intended with this. Who knows what he was capable of in his state of mind right now.

"Just an idiot.", was my glib explanation.

"For only an idiot, you very much seem to need to block the door.", she said and grabbed the nearest grillfork.

"Don't worry. It's not that..." I was about to say bad when someone slapped the counter. Mariah and I both flinched and stared at Lucas wearing his hood again.

He pointed at me and hissed. "I will come for you."

We didn't exhale until we saw him disappear into the dark of the fairground surroundings.

"Did he hurt you?", was the first thing Mariah asked me and I've never seen her that serious.

"No." He had tried only with words.

"Don't let him find you alone. Boys like him are dangerous." She started searching her cupboards frantically.

"We are gone in a few days anyway." I tried to reassure myself.

"There, found it!", Mariah exclaimed and pulled a bundle of herbs out of a small glass in the back of the highest cupboard. She ignited it with a lighter that I hadn't seen her pick up before.

"What is that?"

"Thyme. For courage and protection in difficult situations." She explained it like one would explain a cooking recipe and fanned the smoke in my direction. "And for love."


	15. Old enough

With a bundle of half burnt thyme Mariah had sent me home. She had inculcated me to be careful and stay on the immediate way to my family's trailer. I admired her for her passion of saving people. But I also found it to be utterly useless in this case. If Lucas really tried to get after me, he could do so even if I did stay on the track. It was a ten minute walk from where Mariah's food truck was to where the performer trailers parked. And most of it didn't lead directly through the fairground but more on the edges of the forest. We made it a habit to distance ourselves from the openly accessible parts of the fairground. No one wants a drunk rummaging around in the midst of not so safely locked trailers. I was told it had happened more than once, before we collectively decided to keep our distance.

As the fair lights slowly left me and the mud grew some more prominent spots of wet grass, I clung tight on to the thyme. When I had left Mariah, the little leaves had still smoldered and given away a burning herbal sent but by now they had given up and all I could smell was earthy wetness. If Lucas really wanted to get after me, he could do so any time. It didn't even have to be night. Although it would possibly help. But on most of the day, the fairground was largely empty and there were many corners for someone to hide. It wouldn't even be noticed that a new face suddenly turned up before opening hours. Young men often decided to make a run for it with the carnival. This life somehow seemed glamorous enough from the outside for people to contemplate leaving everything behind and join us. They didn't know what they got themselves into. Although I could understand the thrill behind it. It was probably the same feeling that I'd had as a kid when I had watched my parents perform. It was a little bit of magic and a whole lot of adventures but most of all it seemed like it made you be something special. Special beyond what the outsiders could achieve. It was something close to sacred to be able to be admired for your performance by total strangers who romanticize every way of your living. Specialness that comes with a price that you can't fathom before you get into it. Strangers would probably still be willing to pay just to taste it.

A part of the price was that outsiders didn't care for you except for how you perform and how much the popcorn cost. There's the good part of the police not interfering with carny folk problems. But then there's the bad part of not being able to defend yourself from outsiders because the police didn't interfere with carny folk problems. Two sides of a coin. There can't be simply a good part on its own. There's always the price.

I kept telling myself that a good part was that there's always someone around on the fairground. Never truly being alone had always seemed annoying but now it was life saving. I turned around. There was always someone there. The lights from the fair blinded me for the surroundings. Even if I wanted to, I couldn't see anything other than the lights of the carnival and big dark nothingness around it.

 _There's no one._

 _No one is here._

I kept telling myself because it was less scary than not seeing something that is in the dark. Quickly I turned around again and picked up a faster pace.

My ears were buzzing from all the silence so close around me, trying to blank out the carnival noise that was only a faint white noise in the distance. Trying to listen out for anything that would give another person away. There was no other sound but my loudly slurping steps in the mud.

Suddenly the trailers were all around me and I found myself standing on our porch. I must have ran here without realizing. The thyme had lost some of its leaves in my palm and my dress was splattered with brown that had dissolved into the wet white fabric like watercolor. For the second time today, I hurried inside and threw the door shut behind me. Before anything else, I grabbed a kitchen towel to dry the mud from my feet. It was the nearest possible thing to grab to save me from having to mop the whole trailer before my parents came home. I cleaned the spots on the floor and instantly fled into the shower as long as I was still alone. A warm shower always helped me calm down. And just for safety reasons, I left the thyme on the tiny sink next to me.

It wasn't a very long shower because water was scarce when living on the road. Every two days or so someone with a car has to go fill the tank.

Some day I will shower for a full half an hour.

When I stepped outside the small bath niche again, I grabbed a new pair of jeans and a loose t-shirt. Not long after I had gotten dressed and made myself comfortable in the corner booth right next to the kitchen, the door opened and Danny entered. He didn't notice me in the dark and tried to sneak to the right end of the truck where our bunk beds were.

"It's not that late.", I said while turning the bundle of herbs between my fingers.

He flinched and turned around slowly. "Hi Annie."

"What are you up to?" I didn't really want to interrogate him but since he got in trouble, I was more concerned with his shenanigans.

"Nothing." His answer came way too fast to be true. I looked at him.

His shoulders slumped and stepped a bit closer. "Fine. I wanted to get a bottle of wine."

"What do you need wine for?" I let the thyme rest in the middle of the table between my hands.

"I met some guys from the town and they invited me if I got us something to drink.", he admitted and I hoped he would notice himself, that his new acquaintances were no good for sure. He didn't. Rather he looked at me annoyed.

"You're 13."

"I'm old enough." He didn't notice how dumb he sounded. Seems to be teenage hearing loss, so I threw him a judging look that hopefully got to him through the dim light of the moon that was provided by the window. "The others are allowed to!" He tried his best to get me on his side.

I sighed. "Have you tried booze before?" I let the thyme spin on the table.

"No." He seemed defeated.

"Then don't do it with strangers."

"Did you drink before?" He sat down with me and looked at the spinning herbs.

"I'm older.", I answered to hide the fact that Patrick and I had stolen my first booze from his passed out father back when we were thirteen. It hadn't been wine.

But we were also too scared to drink more than a sip each, for fear of Alex noticing what we had done. It was one of the last moments that I had had with Patrick before he had disappeared.

"That's not an answer."

"Yes it is!", I smiled. I hoped god would forgive me, but I didn't tell him the truth. "It was summer last year somewhere in Arkansas. And it was a mistake. Outsiders are devious sometimes. You are better off not to trust them."

"Still you're hanging with Churchboy."

I frowned and stopped the thyme from spinning. "I didn't say I'm flawless. That was a mistake, too."

"Did something happen?" Suddenly Danny was the shy little boy from a few years ago again.

"He just got a little angry when I called it quits. But I'm safe since Mariah gifted me with her kitchen herbs." It was a try on a joke to make it less terrifying. But Danny saw through all of that.

"Since when do you believe in Mariah's magick?" He took the thyme from me and inspected it.

What I wanted to say was:

 _Since it was too scary alone in the dark._

 _Since Churchboy threatened to hunt me down._

 _Since this life didn't seem so safe any more._

But what I ended up saying was only: "I don't."

Danny didn't see through that.

His face lit up again and he laughed before he had even said something. "Well, at least Patrick will be happy about the news."

I grinned. "You think?" Inside I was still shaking. I purposely didn't look outside when I hurt rumbling at the door.

My parents entered and suddenly the small space seemed claustrophobic.

"Hello, Sweat peas.", ma greeted us and kissed me on the forehead. An age-old nickname she had given us back when we couldn't even walk and she didn't bother stopping the tradition now. Dad murmured something and turned straight to the freezer.

Danny and I didn't bother picking up our conversation again while our parents were around.

When my ma came out of their sleeping niche behind me, she had discarded her fancy performance dress and had traded it for sweats. She joined us, crowding the corner booth even more, while dad presented us with some leftovers. Aftershow snacks was an upheld tradition in this trailer.

"We want you to attend the next supervision meeting with us. We have to discuss our next steps."

Dad's words just floated in the room. It was such a sudden change of mood that I didn't know what to say or if it was even directed towards me.

"Honey, we wanted to discuss this in private first.", ma said with her voice that wasn't really angry but you always knew that something was wrong.

"There's nothing to say. We can't pull this off on our own and the others deserve to know how we are going to manage this."

Danny and I stared at each other.

"What is this about?" I forced myself to find enough voice in my vocal cords for it to sound not so close to crying. I only left Danny's eyes when my ma started to speak.

"We need to make plans because of your injury. You will need a longer pause."

Dad cut her off. "If you ever can perform again." His sneering clenched my heart.

"It's just a matter of time. We want you to rest. But we also need to think about who will take over main attraction and who will care for May. "

"I will not give up May!" I almost screamed. Or my elevated voice seemed louder in this confined space. Either way, I couldn't think straight. They want to make plans to get rid of me. I can't step aside for someone else to take over my role. I need this. This is my residence allowance. If I don't have my act, I have nothing to keep me here. In a year I'll be 18 and my parents won't be able to drag me along simply because I'm family any more.

"The elephant is the main attraction. We need someone to take care of that part of the show while you can't." Dad shoved Danny to the side to take a seat.

"But she's mine. No one can work with her like I can." I got so angry that I was close to tears.

Ma placed a warm hand on my upper leg and tried to take a gentler approach. She had always been the gentle one in their marriage.

"Sweetheart, no one tries to take anything away from you. It's just an emergency plan to help you."

There was a knock on the door when I was about to burst into tears, thyme crushed in my hands.

Dad got up, disgruntled by the turn this evening took and the lack of peace at the midnight snack table. He walked over and opened the door. His face turned even more grim when the moonlight touched it.

There was no emotion in his voice. "What are you doing here?"


	16. Pleas

"Morning." Patrick said, yanking me out of my thoughts. He mimicked me by propping his forearms on the upper beam of May's enclosure fence and we both ended up watching her toy with a small tree in the distance. Well, it was rather he watching May while I watched him.

"Morning." I echoed. It was the first rays of sun that I was able to witness outside again since the hospital and it was a bonus to see the light deliciously touching his shirt-dressed shoulders and unruly hair. I closed my eyes for just a moment, taking in the warmth of the sun on my back and his arm against mine.

When I opened them again, he was looking at me with curious eyes.

"There's rumor about the police showing up at your trailer last night. What happened?"

It was then, that I realized his morning was filled with a lot more worrying than mine was. A little bit of guilt rose up in my stomach because right now there was no worry in the world to ruin my morning.

"They paid a visit, yes." I sighed and he waited for me to elaborate. "Some outsider had notified them of the obvious offense against the prostitution law of this county that was clearly going on."

Patrick's loud laugh seemed as odd in this moment as it didn't seem out of place at all in this setting. This morning felt like laughter but what I had told him was nothing laughable. On the contrary: I had been silently crying myself to sleep yesterday because of this rude and formal insult to my person and my behavior. If I could, I would take back everything that had happened in this town. Every single thing I did. Yesterday night, I had suddenly doubted myself to the point of worthlessness and unimportance, to the point of self-hate that I had never before thought I would be capable of. I had always been a girl that knew who she was. But having to defend yourself against such crude accusations in front of your father and your mother and two police officers in the middle of the night, did weird things to a person's mind. And once this door in my thoughts had been opened, the dark of the aftermath had done the rest. I didn't remember when I fell asleep. It was somewhere between 'Why do I have to have this kind of life' and 'I wish I was never born' and stifled sobs because I didn't want to draw the attention of my little brother in the upper bunk bed. I was a big girl and I didn't want him to know that his older sister was forced to her knees by some outsider. Even though I had to have a whole defensive plea for my sex life in front of my parents, I still had some kind of pride.

"Wait. You are serious." His laughter fell from his face and he let his arms slide off the fence. "Who made that claim?"

"They wouldn't tell. But I guess it was Lucas. I made him angry yesterday." I answered timidly and delicately shredded a leaf between my fingers. I really hoped Patrick wouldn't take it the wrong way that I was still in contact with Lucas.

"Are you sure it was him?" His stare was determined and for a second I regretted telling him because I only added to his worry. At the same time it was nice to have someone care about my well being.

"Mostly." I admitted. "When I told him to leave me alone, he threatened to come after me. Mariah was with me at the time."

Patrick looked even more shocked but not only shocked. His fists clenched and shoulders shrugged back. He suddenly pulled me into a strong but gentle hug. My fingers let go of the leaf's pieces.

"Why didn't you come to me?" His voice was a mere whisper, not angry, not disappointed. Only anxiously pleading for something I should have known to do.

I didn't know an answer to that question. I hadn't known I had someone to care for my problems alongside me. Previously, it had been me alone against everyone and against him, too. Habits didn't just get lost because one resolved another problem. Habits stayed longer than they should.

The realization that I could have just went and talked to him struck me to the core. It wasn't something I could just assume as a given. I had never just asked people for help. My pride or my upbringing had kept me from that. Or the silent doubt that Patrick would change his mind again like the times before.

"I guess, I was scared.", was my answer and it contained everything I could reply to his question.

Patrick leaned back and looked at me like he never did before. Or had his eyes once stroked me like that? I couldn't tell because he never was this close to me on his behalf alone. His arm held me keenly, warmly, familiarly. One hand pretended to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear while his fingertips lingered on the skin of my neck.

"I will always protect you when you entrust me with it. I promise." There was no mocking in his tone. No laugh and no ambiguity.

I nod, unable to voice what tingled through my system.

"I will defend your honor if you want me to." He smirked and his face lit up without the sunlight even touching it, seemingly taking pride in his promise. I was thankful for the change of mood that this small joke brought along. Being speechless was so unlike me that it made me feel slightly uncomfortable and pressured. And as he had sensed it, he stepped in and saved me.

I felt my reservation gradually fall, bit by bit, with everything he promised and any of my feelings he managed to deduce and act on. I was scared and grateful at the same time. Like stripping naked and waiting for a reaction. He had all the right ones. All but one.

He didn't kiss me. But he also didn't make me feel rejected. There was great anticipation in every touch he shared with me and for the moment, it was enough to school myself in patience and linger in the unbearable and luscious moment of almost.

"Just promise me, you won't do something incredibly stupid." I begged him and let my hand slide along his chest. It was almost enough to distract me from everything we had previously talked about.

He threw his hand on his chest like I deeply hurt him. Conveniently the place of his heart was also where my hand lay and he wrapped his fingers around it after he was done playing hurt. "I would never do something stupid." He smirked again. "You know me."


	17. Kaleidoscope

I spent the beginning of opening hours this evening on the stool near the door in Mariah's food truck. We talked a little but mostly it was quiet and I watched her make the famous secret sauce that she praised a lot but no on else really talked about. I was glad that there were none of the townboys anywhere in sight. They must all be at the party that I was so graciously invited to.

After a few hours of no churchboy appearance, I deemed it safe enough for me to stroll about on my own. Of course only after the show had released all of the audience into the entangled trails between the many populated booths. I was not stupid. Only a little careless. I didn't intend on spending all the days left in this town locked in my trailer, since I only just escaped the prison that was hospital.

When the trails slowly became more crowded with visitors, I took off after explicitly describing to Mariah where I would go and when I would be back.

The blinking lights were especially soft today. Even the warmth from the sun sustained after sunset and the mud had dried off sufficiently enough for me to wear shoes again. Although I figured today would have been a good day to walk barefoot through freshly washed grass. To celebrate the last days of summer that were undoubtedly progressing before we retired for this year in late October. I couldn't wait for October. Living in our winter quarters, in real houses for three to four months. Until we would prepare for the next round of travel. Who knew how many winter months I would still spend there after this year? I would turn eighteen next summer and it was time to decide if I will be on the run with my people or if I will leave this life. After all, money must be saved for a trailer and whatever else I would need or for train tickets away from this trailer park. I had never taken the train like normal people do. I had never had a real seat in a train compartment. But I had sat on a pile of trunks and suitcases surrounded by stranger's luggage or in a pile of straw near May when she was still nervous about train traveling. May… She would probably be the reason for me to stay. If the option to leave ever came up. I couldn't leave her here alone with some man that would vent his aggression to the detriment of her again. There was a reason she had been hostile before.

In the distance I heard a familiar laughter and hollering. Startled, I turned, frantically searching for a gray hood. The warmth drained out of me and cold crept in from every person that shoved past me. What had been pleasantly busy turned miserably cramped.

I didn't waste any time and made my way to Patrick's tent. He had asked me to come visit for his break and now seemed a suitable time for not being alone. Carefully making sure I didn't end up in a dead end or lonely passage, I took probably the longest route possible. But it seemed safe to never leave the crowd. I felt isolated nevertheless.

His tent stood out from the flock of visitors like a beacon and I headed straight for it. The hardest part was to stand in front of the tent and wait for the last appointment to be over. It was like standing out in the open, like a sheep hiding from wolves on a hill. Somehow it seemed more dangerous here than somewhere in the crowd alone. I clutched my hands hard in front of me. I felt my fingers losing blood flow, knuckles turning white, but I had to hold onto something. Nervously I was looking around me every few seconds.

After a while, I was about to leave, I heard a high giggle from the inside of the tent. My feet wouldn't move. Giggle again, followed by muffled mumbling, that I imagined to be Patrick's voice. I should have left earlier when I had still the chance. Now I stood here, unable to move, already overhearing what I shouldn't hear. A warm female voice whispered and I tried really hard not to listen. But I didn't have to understand what she said, the tone alone was enough. Her voice was flushed and tempting. I imagined some girl standing in front of a mirror, practicing to speak like that because I sure wasn't able to pull that off just for the heck of it. The picture of that scenario inside my head made it better and worse at the same time. The girl inside was not better than me, probably. But she also did what she did for a reason and I didn't like what she tried to achieve.

Finally the entrance tarp was pushed to the side and a blonde girl exited. It was the same girl from the other day, when I was the one in the tent with the group of town girls waiting outside. Now it was the other way around. I was waiting outside while she had seductively whispered to Patrick and was now leaving, flushed and disheveled. I managed not to blush while she eyed me just like last time. Her face cold and hard, unsuited for the expression she wore prior to seeing me.

"Thanks for coming." I yelled after her with the friendliest tone of voice I could come up with. She did her part of not reacting to it. I suspect my voice brought Patrick outside, too, because now he was standing right next to me. He was looking more calm and collected than any of us, not a bit surprised of my being here.

"She is jealous of you.", Patrick said casually and he incidentally slowly and carefully entangled his fingers with mine. I didn't think he could be afraid of something this minor but this gesture seemed very much like it. I was more angry that I couldn't appreciate his touch because I was too caught up in the situation, than I was angry because of the girl's actions and his ignorance to it. It surely wasn't the first time that she was flirting with him. But I tried to tell myself, that he still saw her only for the money. This girl wasn't the first townie to express interest in him. And obviously she wasn't the only one who was jealous. I ignored it.

"Let's go." I exclaimed more to myself than him and I pulled him with me, away from the tent and my childish thoughts. He uttered a short laugh and caught up to me immediately.

"Where are we going?" He asked. I didn't know.

"Somewhere fun." My answer couldn't be more undefined but that was part of the adventure, wasn't it? He wanted adventure and thrill, didn't he?

His voice forced me out of my raging mind. "So you want to have fun?" The suggestive tone to his words freed me. I froze and managed to look through the blindness of my aimless activism. I felt heat rising in my cheeks. With a weird kind of shame, I turned to him.

"No. Not like that." My voice was more scandalized than I wanted it to show. Still I managed to look him in the eyes. He wore a cheeky smile while his expression was illuminated with a different kind of colored light every few seconds.

One step closer. "But we're on a carnival.", he started very innocently. "There's a lot of fun to be had." He changed the grip on my hand to suit a formal dance style and stepped closer. "There's music everywhere." With his arm around me, he shrugged my unoccupied hand on his shoulder and simultaneously rock us a few times while carefully avoiding the people around us. "A lot of kaleidoscope lights. Makes you look exquisitely beautiful, by the way."

Suddenly he stopped to look at me suspiciously. "What did you think I was suggesting?"

When I smiled, he let the pretending go and smiled with me. Slowly he let our entwined hands sink but he didn't step away, nor stop his touch on my back. Suddenly I was very aware of his hand following the line of my spine further down to just above my lower back and back up again. I shuddered. My palms got sweaty. His hand rested heavy on my skin. People stared. But I didn't look away. I didn't break eye contact. My heart raced. Fingertips tingled. I couldn't look away. His blue eyes wouldn't let me go.

His lips formed a small smile like a secret that he gifted only to me. I didn't know what to do. There were no thoughts, only looks and touch. Breathing in. Then for a second he broke the silent promise and looked at my lips. After that everything was quick. The pressure of his hand became unbearable, though soft. In the blink of an eye, I was in his arms and his lips on mine. It was familiar, like last time. But a whole world different, too. It wasn't a surprise. It was longed for. He didn't just grant me a second. He lingered. His lips didn't taste anything like I remembered them. It was all fondness and playfulness, no aggression nor anger. Like favorite childhood candy that got a whole new flavor to discover. It was new and it was better than balancing on a tightrope in front of a whole circus full of audience. It was adrenaline and jumping into soft straw. It was glamour and stage fright and all the fame and glory this life could bring.

I could swear I heard him sigh, but also I couldn't because I wasn't capable of concentrating on anything else but the movement of his lips.

I didn't realize he had let go of my hand until I felt his arms shift around me. I welcomed his attempt to pull me closer. We were pressed against each other but it still didn't seem enough. I needed more, I craved it. I didn't know how but I needed to be closer, feeling his touch more. Everything more.


	18. Dust

Thank you for all your lovely reviews!

Feel free to leave one if you enjoyed reading or if you have constructive criticism. I always appreciate both. (:

Also **Warning for physical violence** in this chapter.

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When he stopped kissing me, it felt like I was coming to life again, waking up from too surreal of a dream. I still felt dizzy like I hadn't breathed for a minute straight. I probably hadn't. But the kiss didn't hold up to what he promised it would. It didn't make up for the stolen kiss and the rudeness of the ambush. What did make up for it though, was that he had waited for my approval before taking action this time. It wasn't about that he did to me but that we did together and it felt much better this way. Comfortable and safe and trusting; he achieved all of that with one moment.

"I love kissing you." Patrick breathed and my heart startled at the word love. The danger of blushing bright red was too immanent to be ignored, so I just smiled and jerked my head in the direction of the circus tent. A sort of proposal to get going. Anything to hide my awkwardness, I guess. I hated leaving his direct proximity because of my embarrassment but now was too late to contemplate my actions. It didn't matter because now he offered his hand and I grabbed it, turning around, running right into someone. I was about to apologize and sidestep when I recognized the gray.

"Providing your services again?" Lucas said. Immediately I let go of Patrick's hand.

"No, I don't", as if I had the duty to justify my actions to this townie. I regretted letting go on the spot. I turned to Patrick to see if I made him angry. Turned out he needed both his fists to clench anyways, while Lucas seemed to count my backing up as victory and tried to mock me further.

"Oh, don't leave. I got some curious friends who want to meet you. They even got some bills, too. Can't disappoint them now." Lucas got uncomfortably close. Every word he spoke was oozing with threat. Whenever I took a step back, he urged forward, too. I didn't even think about making an escape. All I could think of was covering, cowardly hiding in myself, hoping to conceal me from his towering glare. I was eternally thankful for Patrick to pull me away, dragging me along with him fast. He said something about going somewhere. I almost thought we were safe when I was suddenly jerked back by my elbow.

"I told you to stay, bitch." Lucas bellowed. But I didn't react. I stared at Patrick because I could hear the last drops aggregate. I could hear them fall and I felt the glass overflow. It was like a shock wave that suddenly turned and washed over Patrick, made him even angrier and go for Lucas.

For a second, I thought he'd hit him. But he didn't.

"Hey, carny freak. How about you leave her to me tonight. You'll get your part after tomorrow." Lucas proposed, trading for me like they were best friends. It left me unable to speak, unable to move. I just stood behind Patrick, hiding, close to crying. I didn't want him to fight, but I also didn't want Lucas to have power over me.

"You flatter yourself by thinking she would even consider you." I had never heard Patrick this angry. He quite audibly tried his best to keep his tone down and his shoulders strained, prepared for whatever Lucas was up to. After all he had more than enough experience with temperamental men. He knew what could happen, how mad they really were. Still he braved the threat and shielded me from Lucas.

"Oh she considered me real good."

I felt sick. It's not like I didn't want to defend myself. It's that I couldn't. I didn't find the words or the movement in me.

"Leave.", Patrick ordered nicer than I would be able to. "You're alone. You're drunk. You hurt your left leg. You're not even close to using all your strength. You're not used to fighting on your own without your gang."

Lucas sneered. "You think your psycho tricks scare me?"

"You're on our territory. Take the chance and leave." Patrick's voice echoed anger and force. I admired him for having that while also being scared with shaking hands. Could also be adrenaline of course. Probably both: fear and attentiveness. It was still more than I could muster.

"Or what? You're gonna call over your fucking carny friends? Old grandpa at the sweets or crazy black hot dog lady?" Lucas shoved him. People started looking. I felt the contemplating going on in Patrick's mind. He took a step back, his right arm stretched out weakly, forming a barricade against Lucas where I stood. As if I needed holding back.

He was probably trying really hard to keep his anger in check himself without showing too much.

"Listen, I promised not to hurt you. Just leave and you'll get your wallet back."

Lucas was about to laugh, when Patrick waved the expensive looking thing in front of his face. Neither me nor Lucas had noticed the pickpocketing. I expected Lucas to be surprised, maybe check his pants pockets. But for once he wasn't dumbstruck. He leaped for Patrick openly, in front of everyone, throwing him to the ground and lunching for his first strike. His fist only missed Patrick by half an inch because he managed to duck away. But now Lucas pushed his face in the mud, inhibiting another evasion. I begged him to stop.

"Listen to the little bitch. This has nothing to do with you." It was only a second until Patrick had wrestled with Lucas enough to turn him around, pinning him to the ground now. I tried to pull him away, saving us from trouble because surely it would be blamed on us if Lucas got hurt. Patrick ignored me. It was my fault. My fault. I didn't want this. I cried. I tugged at Patrick.

"Give up!" I heard Patrick yell through my own sobs. Lucas swayed at him again and hit his chin because Patrick couldn't move away or he would have lost the upper hand. He didn't wince or move away. He only secured the loose arm, too. People just watched as Lucas struggled in the mud, now with both arms restrained, grunting and yelling insults.

"Quit already!" Patrick's voice was a scream that I hadn't heard of him before. At that point, Lucas' body went limb, only breathing angrily. Patrick waited a moment longer and finally released his grip and stumbled towards me, pulling me to a sufficiently safe distance from Lucas. He was about to speak, when Lucas interfered, while slowly picking himself up in a circle of shame between the crowd that was pretending to mind their own business again.

"You will not always be there.", he yelled after us before picking up his wallet from the ground, covered in junks of earth and grass. That's when Patrick took the chance and gently but determinedly turned me to face him.

"Meet me in the circus ring. Don't walk home alone. I will come and get you." I almost couldn't follow. His voice was too serious for the seeming victory he had just achieved. I was too distracted by the bruise near his mouth that started to form and his bleeding lower lip.

"What? No! You promised me not to do something stupid." I held onto his hand. I knew he just wanted to keep me safe and that as long as Lucas was around here, I was never really safe. But I couldn't risk him getting in trouble recklessly.

"I'll only talk to him. Trust me." His eyes told me, he was telling the truth. But also he was a master of delusion like we all had witnessed with the pickpocketing. He was perfectly capable of lying, although he had never really lied to my face like that. I just had to trust him or let him prove me wrong. However you wanted to put it. I nodded which was appreciated with a smile of his although it probably ripped at his torn lip again. He wiped my tear stains away with a hand that left dust on my cheeks and he let go of my hand. I hesitantly took a few steps back. Eyes hopping from him to Lucas, who was walking towards us. Patrick's smile tried to convince me that nothing was wrong. He almost succeeded but I still ran.


	19. Boundaries

I was left sitting on one of the empty benches around the ring for almost half an hour, fiddling with the hem of my cut shorts, pulling single strings out. They had belonged to my ma, I thought, but she had cut them for me because they were too long anyways. Might as well make them into shorts. Every string was a measure of counting time as well as relieving stress. By the time I heard rustling near the ring entrance and backstage, I had almost a handful of lint and quickly discarded it, wiping my hands on my jeans. Stumbling in through the curtains came Patrick, heavily breathing, stopping as soon as he reached the ring to stabilize himself, bending forward. He was panting after an obvious run here.

"What happened?" Was my first question, scared enough to jump up from my seat. When he finally looked at me, his grin was big in his glowing, sweaty face. He began to walk towards me, still breathless, his shoulders exaggeratedly heaving.  
"I should exercise more frequently." he tried to laugh but didn't have the air for it in his lungs and it came out very croaking.

"What did he say?" I couldn't wait for an answer. I was tense, awaiting the bad news. Something that would confirm my bad feeling about Patrick breaking his promise and getting into trouble again. I was so tired of police showing up on this fair ground. "Did you hurt him?"

Something glistened in Patrick's eyes and his smile seemed stiff for a moment. But then he reached me and drew me into a hug with the ring boundaries still between us.

"He told me it wasn't him." His voice was soft and stable, for him being out of breath. Nothing hinting at a lie although he didn't answer my question. "He wasn't the one calling the police on you."

"How did you get him to talk?" I tried really hard not to sound suspicious when I leaned back. Patrick pretended not to notice.

"He threatened me and while he was angry, he was easy to interrogate without him noticing."

I searched for a sign that told me he had gotten into another fight, but there was none apart from the already dried crack in his lip.

His smile shrank a little when I didn't reply fast enough. "Don't tell me you don't believe me."

Now I really didn't know what to reply. Considering Lucas' aggression from before, I found it hard to believe that he was willing to just talk. Especially while intoxicated.

I stuttered without really saying anything.

"Why?" I could tell he was hurt just by the look on his face. But the one word question sealed it.

"It seems improbable. That's all." I so dearly hoped this subject would be dropped. I looked up at him, guilty of what he accused me of, but also unable to shake my thoughts off.

Patrick sighed and let his arms sink. I watched him take a minor step back but it emphasized the boundary dividing the ring from the audience. The night felt cold after that.

The subject was dropped. "I'll take you home." He reached out a hand to help me climb over the thigh high railings and it made me take a breath of relief, but as soon as I crossed the barrier, he let go. We walked with too much distance to each other and I didn't know what to do with my hands. They changed from dangling awkwardly at my side, to crossed in front of me, to crossed behind my back, but nothing seemed right. He took the easy road and just stuffed his hands in his pockets. Looking at his hands, my eyes wandered to his pulled up shoulders and his face that was directed towards the ground constantly. Like he was trying really hard to see where he stepped. I retreated my eyes, only shooting glances from the corners of my eyes at him. His posture never changed, never relaxed. When we were about to walk around the corner of another trailer, he surprised me by grabbing my arm and pulling me back. I looked at him and didn't bother asking what that had been about. I honestly hoped, he would kiss me before we would be in sight of my trailer. But he didn't. Instead he put a finger to his mouth and looked around the corner that we hid behind. I joined him.

"What have you done?", I whispered as we both watched the police standing in front of my trailer again. Patrick's father staggering next to them, trying to lean against the trailer wall but never really succeeding. Additionally the blond girl and supposedly her mother was yelling at the policeman or my father. I couldn't tell.

Patrick didn't answer me, not even bothering to tell me to be silent. So I had been right after all.

The mother yelled: "You can't let your daughter run around and offer herself to everyone. It's disgusting to let minors behave this way. I will make sure your carnival will never get accepted in this town again!"

The police tried to calm her down. From afar it looked like the same man that forced me to confess last time.

"It's unbelievable that such habits are accepted here. What else must happen for you to take action?!" Her screech echoed between the trailers. Some trailer lights went on.

The police assured her that things will be dealt with... Yada-Yada. She finally shut up and let the police speak to my dad.

"Sir, we are here to talk to your daughter again. She seems to be witness to a case of battery that caused considerable injury to the victim."

"My son didn't do it.", Alex slurred more to himself than any of the present. His faith in his son almost seemed endearing. "He's not man enough to break someone's leg."

Never mind.

Unbothered by Patrick's dad's alcohol droolings, my dad replied to the detective: "She's not here."

"Is it ok for me to take a look?" Police asked and my dad let him in with a grimmer face than before. It was no use resisting and he knew it. They would only come back and delay our packing up and departure in two days. Delays cost money and were not at all welcomed, usually causing trouble for the perpetrator.

The two man disappeared in my trailer, leaving mother, daughter and Alex outside. Blonde's mother pulled her back behind her, with a disgusted look at Alex who only waved it off.

Patrick pulled me fully behind the trailer before any of the waiting saw us. I waited for him to say something.

"Don't look at me like that.", he said sounding somehow angry. "Ask what you need to ask."

I had been about to ask but his cocky voice rubbed me the wrong way.

"You have no right to be angry when you were lying to my face!" I hissed, trying to be quiet. I was angry but not angry enough to turn him in. Not without confronting him first.

"I didn't lie." It was just a statement, no question followed. No explanation.

"I will not let you get away with hurting someone if you don't at least explain to me why it was necessary." Through my stern voice, I almost begged him to give me a reason. Any reason. Anything would be good enough. Because I was almost certain there was one. He would not hurt anyone gravely without being forced to do it. Otherwise he would have hit Lucas already when they were fighting in front of me. There would have been no use to wait then if he wanted to fight him later.

"He chased me and tripped. His leg was injured before. Might have broken his leg. I didn't wait around to see if he was alright." He didn't look me in the eyes but pretended to watch for someone coming our way. The night was silent. Hesitation dazed my thoughts. Should I believe him or should I not? I couldn't tell truth from lies anymore. His eyes were a mix of anger and disappointment. Nothing he couldn't fake. Slowly I realized that if I started doubting him now, there was only downhill from here on after. Either I trusted him until there was real proof or I could break it right off this instant. I didn't want to lose him because of a drunken idiot who came out to destroy me.

I calmed my voice but never lost my determination. "Look at me." I ordered. Patrick obeyed. "If I find out that you lie or use your tricks on me once, you missed your chance. I don't want to be scared of being your puppet for all my life. Understood?"

His eyes wandered around my face as if he was searching for the words I had just said. Finally he nodded. Sweet relief washed over me and my shoulders relaxed automatically. I had been braced for all the bad things; for a long fight, accusations, yelling, name calling or even breaking up. All the things I had witnessed with my parent's arguments. But it all ended with a stiff nod.

"I believe you." I needed to advance this bit of trust for him to be able to act on it. He smiled and took my hand, already less reluctantly than last time.

"I know a place to hide." I lead him out of the trailers, always following the forest and the dark to where the animals were kept. If he needed to spend the night outside his father's trailer, I was at least able to provide him with a comfortable and dry space that was probably better than the backyard of their trailer. We didn't discuss why we went off to hide. It was a given that after Alex's encounter with the law enforcement, he wouldn't be in the best mood. No word was lost about it. I just opened the straw wagon when we were there and Patrick gained his smirk back. This time of the year, late summer, it was always mostly empty, so I climbed inside and searched for the flashlight. Every utility wagon had one just in case there was an emergency and everything needed to be readied by night. Unintelligibly it was all the way in the back of the wagon and I had to struggle through the piled straw to reach it. Until I had grabbed it, Patrick had already climbed in with me, standing in the little light coming in through the open door and throwing a long shadow towards me.

"Close the door." I asked him in a hushed voice and I watched his shadowed form pull the door close before I wanted to disturb the dark with my blinding light. But I didn't. Instantly after the light from the door disappeared, there were streaks of moonlight coming through every crack in the wood, illuminating little grains of dust in the air like stars in the sky. I tried to touch one and ended up stirring through the floating stars. For a night like this with all that had happened, it was hauntingly peaceful. Warmth and silence and I suddenly realized how tired I really was. Patrick walked toward me and it took him longer than it should have in this tiny room. Time stretched endlessly. He left stars tumbling behind him while his face lit up sparingly every now and then when he touched the light beams and shadow fell when he left them again. Until he came to a halt in front of me. I couldn't determine the features of his face because we both stood in the dark. I just felt his breath on my lips. He was close. Stars still dancing behind him.

"I will never lie to you."


	20. Stars

**Following chapter is (probably) M rated for sexual innuendos just to be safe.**  
 **If you don't want to read it, you can skip without losing track of the plot; It's just the conclusion to the previous chapter.**  
 **Enjoy. xx**

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"I will never lie to you." he blurted out. "And I would never-" I took his hand. "I would never use my… my… thing on you."

His stuttering was incredibly amiable but I couldn't hold back a chuckle. 'Childish!', I scolded my thoughts.

"What?" He asked bewildered and leaned back as if he could see better this way. He probably frowned.

I cringed because of my stupidity of ruining this moment.

I felt my cheeks burn with embarrassment. "What you said."

"What is so funny about that?" He sounded agitated and his hand turned sweaty. Or was it mine?

Now it was on me to stutter. I almost couldn't take the heat on my face. "You said you would never use your thing on me." My voice was barely audible and a big part of me hoped he wouldn't understand what I had said.

I silently swore myself never to be this childish again while he rightfully treated me with silence. My heart raced more than when he had kissed me.

Then a light snicker turned into a louder laugh in his throat and he picked me off from the ground just enough to kiss me. I didn't know what to do. As a reflex because I lost my stability, I wrapped my arms around his neck. He didn't break the kiss when he laid me down into the soft straw and positioned himself on top of me.  
I had lied. My heart was beating just as fast right now.

I felt his weight on my hips and on my lungs. I was instantly out of breath, but didn't care. It was a weird combination of not knowing what to do with my arms and legs while also not really wanting to think about it. When he licked my lips during a kiss, everything was lost. My brain blanked and I couldn't even feel my fingertips anymore. I seemed to just disappear or get lost in him.

He reminded me of my body again, when he caressed the thigh of my right leg that I had somehow tucked up so he could lie between my legs more comfortably. I couldn't remember when I had done it, but my blanked brain somehow still knew what to do. It seemed like the correct thing one does. I felt his heat radiating on my inner thigh and torso. Breathless kissing.

I had just found a good way to use my tongue in a kiss when he separated his lips from mine, only to kiss my cheek and down to my neck. When an overly-defined sigh escaped my mouth, I opened my eyes in shock, hoping he hadn't notice my weird noise. An absurd hope because his ear was close to my mouth. At least he didn't seem to mind.

His lips still kissing down to my collarbone and up again. Spending an incredible amount of time on the part where my chin and my neck met. I didn't yet know if I liked it or not. I was still too busy with being embarrassed. He shifted to balance on his other leg more and it sent tingles through my veins, enough to make me suck in breath. I felt him smile against my skin. Right before I closed my eyes again, I saw the stars dancing over our bodies in faint light. Simply breathing didn't seem enough anymore to deal with my emotions. Words didn't seem to be it but also not just silence. I wasn't brave enough to figure it out.

Patrick stopped kissing my neck but I still felt his breath on my ear.

"I would do it right now with you if you'd want me to." He muttered under his breath, panting from having to support himself on his elbows or something else. Tingles again. To stop myself from blushing, I opened my eyes and turned my face to his. Different thoughts. Nothing was being done tonight. Nothing at all.

He still had his eyes closed, head laid down partly on his own arm and partly on my shoulder while I couldn't figure out how to bring my breathing and heart rate down again.

"You're heavy." I managed to utter and instantly he rolled off of me, grinning. His eyes were reading me, taking every inch of my face in.

"And you're beautiful when you blush." He said, picking straw out of my hair and afterwards caressing my cheek with his thumb while his hand gently rested on my jaw.


	21. Dawning

Hey! I'm back. Sorry for the long hiatus. I had some weird writer's block and wasn't content with what I came up with until now. So here it is. Some fluff. Comments are welcome. (:

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Sleep didn't come easy even though the straw was soft and his warmth was familiar. His breathing had slowed down ages ago and his lids had fluttered and closed in secret. For all his silence every move of his chest screamed novelty and even though my eyes were tired watching dust dance above us, I couldn't find rest. I wanted to break free from the silence as much as I just wanted to lean into the arm he had around me. Night was close to gone and I felt this moment pass too fast for the stillness. We could hide in the dark but there was no power to protect us from daylight and its obligations and the necessity to deal with every problem of the world. I craved darkness like a tree craved the sun. Hide me away forever. Lose me in the night, never to be seen again. Leave me here with slow breaths and tired eyes.  
"Have you thought about leaving before?" Patrick's voice was raw from resting and his words barely disturbed the slumbering atmosphere. What a funny question. If I had wanted to leave his arms, I would have.  
"What do you mean?" Through narrow eyes, I only saw light and darkness. Mostly darkness. I felt lightness in my limbs. Straw didn't prick me. His touch slowly disappeared and gave me away to the universe.  
"Leaving the carnival." He muttered, his lips as lazy as my thoughts. Slowly I looked at him, without really moving or fully opening my eyes. His eyes were closed but his fingers still found my skin to caress.  
I'm probably dreaming. So is he. Dreaming of a different time with different circumstances and a different background. If we had a different upbringing, maybe leaving would be a good choice. If we had lived our lives differently, living our future as normal people would be a possibility.  
"Sometimes." I admit, knowing well that it had never sufficed to make real plans. It never seemed enough to become reality. Not one single dream seemed strong enough to pull me out of my ongoing living. Ever progressing, never stopping.  
"Someday, I will leave." Patrick revealed it as a secret plan to victory and dreams coming true but never opening his eyes. I kept mine closed as well.  
I climbed into his dreams with him. Night was the time for dreaming and so we did. "What would you do?"  
My question drew silence and a smile from him. I didn't look but I could feel it being on his lips. His shoulders always moved a certain way when he truly smiled.  
"I will live in a flat with a big kitchen and a real office. With a wooden desk that needs its own trailer because it's so heavy. It will never be moved again after it's placed in that room." I could hear his smile. His happy voice. It tasted like honey in my mouth. "The flat will be in the first story at least. So stairs are leading up to it. I want to take the stairs until I'm sick of it. And a door with a lock and a door handle. I want to lose my keys and not get through the door." He sighed at the thought of an unpickable door.  
I saw his flat in front of my own closed eyes and he had mapped it out on my skin with his striving fingers. I couldn't help but join in: "I want a shower that is big enough to actually put your arms up and not touch a ceiling. And a boiler big enough to have a hot shower for half an hour."  
"We could even have a bathtub. Imagine that. Actually bathing in a bathroom instead of a river."  
"And a bed with an actual mattress in a bedroom that we don't need to share. Bigger than your and my trailer together."  
"And a couch that fits us both at the same time. So we can waste our evenings watching TV as normal people do." Smiles turned into hushed laughs.  
I don't recall how the dreams became a 'we' but it felt warm in my chest. Out of all the things, wasting evenings felt the furthest away. I couldn't imagine dusk that wasn't spent in opening hours, performing or otherwise caring for the visitors. Heaviness crept back into my soul and I opened my eyes to a brighter straw wagon. If my eyes just got used to darkness or the sun started rising, I couldn't tell.  
I watched Patrick pretending to be asleep for a while.  
"Why did you come back, if you don't like it here?" Faint memories of him refusing to give away anything from his time away from the carnival circled my mind. It felt like another life, like another Patrick.  
His eyelids twitched before he tiredly opened them to scan my face as attentive as ever although the creases under his eyes spoke for his tiredness.  
I wasn't delusional; I didn't expect him to say that he came back for me and I hoped he realized that. I wanted the truth.  
"I guess I was lost and scared. Carny life seemed like the sole thing that was secure." Every word he spoke, resonated with me.  
I hoped the conversation was stable enough for me to ask my next question: "What happened in those years that you were gone?"  
In his eyes, I saw the resistance that his mind built up against telling me. Most of me expected him to find an excuse but he didn't. He closed his eyes and in one smooth gesture, pulled me closer and rested his lips against my head like a kiss that forever continued. Master of deceiving, he knew exactly how to hide his expression from me without being obvious. But he showed me too much of himself for me to be tricked by his advances to use my feelings against me. I still enjoyed every single second of this kind of fraud.  
When he finally spoke, it was quiet and he sounded so out of it that I could hardly keep myself from looking at him to fully grasp what he was telling me. "It had been a particularly bad time and CPS took me away. I was with different foster homes but only for a short time. They all weren't very bright but they tried their best, I guess. Tried to put me in a youth center last but I made a run for it and – well I tried to get by for nearly a year… Then I returned. Found most of the life I have lived had changed. Except for Alex of course. He's still binge drinking."  
I had my hand wrapped around his arm so tightly, he shouldn't be able to feel his fingers anymore but he didn't complain. It seemed like the only way to show him that I cared for what he told me. I cared for everything he had said even though I couldn't seem to find words to make it all better.  
"You know, before you left, I had a huge crush on you." I whispered into the crook of his neck.  
A deep chuckle echoed from him.  
"Some things didn't change."  
He embraced the silence and my body. It felt like the dark started to pull back completely. The past was the past and this night was for the future.  
"Next time everything changes, I'm going to change it myself." The determination in his voice made finality dawn on me. Everything he had dreamed in front of me, was his plan of the future. A real plan. More than my shenanigans to keep me from losing my mind. He meant it and it was scary. Fear of being left alone in this trap of a life crept into my soul where warmth had been. I plucked it off of my thoughts but I felt it already nesting in my heart. I couldn't bring myself to ask him to not leave without me. I didn't even know if I would ever truly consider leaving. I will not hold him back, I promised myself. If he can leave, he should. Without any kind of bad conscience. My heart already wept for the loss. It was heavy and pulled me down into darkness. Sad sleep conquered me with terrible dreams. I heard my heart scream and struggle. It was unbearable but I didn't wake.


	22. Flight

Celebrating 50 pages with this chapter. Whoo. :D

If you're interested, I rewrote and updated the _first chapter_ to fix some things (characters and writing).  
And I will continue to improve the first four or so chapters since I wrote them like six years ago and it shows.  
So stay tuned for (hopefully) better writing there. :D

Thanks for every comment. I'm always excited to read them.

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The door hit the wooden wall and suddenly the whole world jerked awake. The tenderness of the night was gone, the stars had left us. Screaming sunlight blinded me as I looked at the gaping hole the open door cut into our hiding spot. Yelling got inside before a single person did. I didn't know whose hand it was that lifted me out of the straw and Patrick's arm. My eyes were still mourning the night and its darkness.

"You're hurting me." I uttered but it was instantly met with an even tighter grab around my upper arm, roughly dragging me out of the trailer, and a groan that was undoubtedly my dad's. I fell silent. Cursing signaled that Patrick was dragged out after me by whoever was there, too.

"If you knocked her up, you're on your own, you dumbfuck!" There was Alex.  
Patrick audibly tried to defend himself and me but it made no difference. When my eyes adjusted to the light, I wished for me to be blinded again. Seemingly the whole carnival had gathered around, staring and judging. I looked back. A friend of my dad held Patrick tight, following us. Neither of them looked happy.  
I didn't dare to look at my dad. While the carnival workers pretended to not observe the incident, he walked me directly to our trailer and he sat me down in the corner booth that was strangely abandoned by any other family member. Shortly after, Patrick followed and was shoved next to me. We sat with our eyes carefully avoiding each other and the two men towering over us. Out of the corner of my eyes, I noticed them sharing a look like a silent conversation until my dad sighed. He tried to begin an hour-long lecture when Alex tumbled into the trailer, hopelessly crowding it.

"You're going to marry her when she's pregnant. No Jane ever ignores his responsibility! You knock her up, you care for her." A strong smell of alcohol filled the room along with him but he kept his slurring to a minimum. The irony of his words made me clench my fists in anger.  
Dad immediately dashed Alex's plans.

"No one is marrying anyone. And I hope you didn't do something stupid or god help me." This one was directly aimed at me and his voice demanded an answer. Patrick realized that faster than me.

"I didn't touch her." His voice was composed even with the lie on his lips. Even if I wasn't in danger of being pregnant, it still had been something. It had been whatever. It had existed and I had experienced it and it was a whole lot more than nothing.  
Dad slapped his hands on the table and I winced even though it wasn't directed at me. "Don't you dare lie to me!" Patrick didn't flinch.

"Nothing happened." My voice wasn't as calm but it also didn't give away that I had enjoyed the whatever he had done to make me feel that way.  
Alex mumbled something about me being easy. Everyone ignored it.

"I hoped you were more intelligent, Angela. After what happened to Danny. You said yourself that he was only trouble." Dad's finger angrily pointed at Patrick but Patrick didn't let his look at my dad waver. "The police were here last night. He's wanted for battery. My daughter will not be a thug's whore."  
I mimicked Patrick's unrelenting stare, trying to be brave even though I didn't know any answer to deflect his concerns.

"He didn't do it." I lied weakly, my composer trembling.

"There are witnesses." The friend said after keeping silent all this time. I was so angry. How did he have the right to be here and speak out against Patrick? A stranger to even me. I wanted to tell him to keep his mouth shut. I didn't. When I didn't come up with another excuse, dad felt visibly confirmed in his beliefs, ruffling through his own hair like throwing in the towel.

"I will call the police." Now Patrick twitched but he didn't try to defend himself. I didn't know why. He could easily get out of it by telling everyone he just defended me. My dad would be the first to lie for him before the police if he knew that that had been the reason. Carny folk didn't blow the whistle on their own kind and my dad honored this rule.

"Wait!" I exclaimed. Attention shifted to me again. "He only did it to defend me."  
Dad and his friend fell silent, only Alex felt the need to speak his mind. "You risked your future for that whore? She flutters her eyes ate every fellow who just happens along. You really are dumber than I thought."  
After that, Alex was kicked out of the trailer fairly nicely for calling me a whore in front of my dad.  
Dad sat down opposite from us, clenching his hands on the table.

"You have five minutes to explain before I call the cops on this blighter." It was a chance. A chance I didn't know if Patrick wanted me to take - he could have done so himself - but I did anyway.

"The townie who called the police, making allegations about me, threatened to come for me. He found me yesterday at the after-shows. Patrick was there to defend me. Lucas struck first. It wasn't his fault." The story was told faster than I had planned for, leaving me in panicky silence, contemplating if I said enough.

Dad sighed. "Indeed. It isn't his, it's your fault. I thought we'd taught you better than throwing yourself at everyone. Now you learned the consequences."  
His words tugged at my soul. My fault. Of course. Why would anything not be my fault? It was me. Always me. Tears welled in my eyes and I cursed myself for it. Just be strong this one time. Just this one time, do not let yourself be blamed. Yet I stayed silent and it felt a lot like giving up and accepting the blame.

Now dad turned to Patrick. "We will have you leave with the billposters. Police won't care where you went when they don't find you here. As long as they don't."

I was speechless at my dad's attempt to help Patrick. Patrick was the whole opposite: he looked bewildered, speaking under his breath. Something about his father killing him when he didn't show up to the show two nights in a row.  
Dad didn't bother to talk sense into him.

"Your choice. But if I catch you with my daughter again, I will kill you myself."  
My heart stopped. I hoped for Patrick to reply something cunning and defiant but I wasn't even sure I was brave enough to disobey my own dad. He didn't and I was still glad. It saved him the chance of getting away with whatever he really did to Lucas.

"Get out of my sight." Dad said way too calm and it made my flesh crawl. Patrick lightly pushed his knee against my leg before he left. Somehow it felt almost as exciting as a kiss. Forbidden.  
Dad nodded for his friend to leave, too. Immediately after the door was closed for the second time, the subject was changed but the tension in the trailer stayed the same.

"Tonight is the supervision. You will attend and you better decide what you're gonna say beforehand."  
It was such a sudden change of topic and worries that I couldn't quite keep up. The supervision seemed irrelevant when you've been threatened and scared for life for the past days.

"Questions?" Dad asked aggressively.  
I shook my head while my mind was solely filled with Patrick's touch and his voice and the way his eyes blinked when he didn't really want to wake up fully.  
Dad's threat seemed dull in the light of the last night. Patrick will not keep away, I was sure of it. He had shown me the simplest taste of defiance just by daring to touch knees with me in front of my dad. I wanted more of that. Patrick made me feel alive, finally, and capable of taking my own decisions. I craved empowerment like a drug.

"Then you better not let me see you until then."  
I didn't let dad ask me twice to leave. In fact, I almost ran out of the door and through the first row of our neighbors' trailers on the way to Patrick's tent or the straw wagon. Anywhere I could come across Patrick. I refused to let the night go. Passing a trailer, I knew belonged to a worker, I was yanked behind it and pressed to the exterior. Patrick's lips kissed me violently and his body dived into mine. His tongue tasted like freedom and it was enough for me to lose grip on reality. His hands skimmed my sides and the force with which he pressed his fingers into my waist, spoke of a need I didn't yet understand.  
He will not abandon me. He was way too daring to listen to a simple threat, way too intrigued. Some would call it recklessness. I'd call it recklessness if I was in my right mind. But I wasn't and I enjoyed every minute of it.  
We were making out at the back of someone's trailer. I forgot about the world. It was almost like escaping.

"Run away with me." Patrick sighed. This raspy voice of his almost had me. Almost.

"You are mad." I smiled to hide my panic. His eyes opened grudgingly like he had feared that response.

"I won't leave today while you are still here with Lucas. Who knows what he comes up with." He explained it calmly, his hand playing with my hair. It dawned on me that he only wanted to leave this town a little earlier. It had not been a suggestion of a big change, no big impact would be made. It was only a day or two to taste what it would be like to live. Disappointment and relief mixed. Another quick but deep kiss was all it took from there.

"Okay." I breathed when his mouth had barely left me.

"The bill posters are going to leave in an hour. Is it enough time for you to pack your things?" My hands were shaking when I affirmed. "Do you want me to get you?"  
Thinking of my dad, I reckoned it wouldn't be a good idea for Patrick to come near my trailer again.

"I will come to you." I was breathless.

"They gather at the trailer entrance. We'll meet there." His eyes carried sparkle and hope in them. For a moment I was the same. I won't lose money because I don't perform anyway. If I feed May a lot today, she will get by until she is in her travel wagon. My parents won't notice until the supervision. What am I going to do there anyway? I was tired of listening to the adults explaining and discussing and not ever changing anything. I would not again miss the chance of getting a glimpse of freedom. I had learned from my past mistakes.  
I nodded and he kissed me again. He had kissed me so many times that I couldn't count anymore. Every kiss was special enough to overshadow any prior to it. I was drunk and high and full of adolescent dreams and hopes and hormones. The moment he left me, the doubts came crashing down.


	23. Firsts

The next hour felt like a sweeping dream. A race that I needed to win. I knew what I had to do but I didn't register all the steps I did, somehow it all came together while my mind was raging through thoughts of panic and excitement. I threw a few things in a worn backpack that had once belonged to my mom, I took a quick shower that would probably be my only for three days until the carnival caught up to us.  
I had never really talked to one of the bill posters but they were notorious for their uncleanliness and alcohol. Always on the road, even worse than the rest of us. Their morals were ambiguous and their mouths loose. When I was a kid, I was told to stay away from them. Now, being close to adulthood, I realized that we acted nothing different from townspeople towards our own that we barely saw. We all made the bill posters what they are and despise what the townies made us out to be.  
Today I would go with them and I hoped they could show me a world of freedom that I was too scared to scout on my own. One thought was wasted on what I would tell my parents when I saw them again after three days. I decided to think about that another day. I had three of them to come up with something.  
My cheeks were flushed with agitation when I stepped out of the trailer. I didn't look back or made my farewells to any of it. I wasn't even sure if I would stop and say goodbye to Danny if I knew where he was. I tried to calm my nerves and bad conscience by telling myself that it was only for three days. Like a holiday that I never took before. I will be back. No need to say goodbye.  
I didn't know what part of the hour I still had left, but the empty carnival buzzed with commotion already. The same kind of commotion that came up when the first trailers leave. The feeling of a fresh start somewhere else. Movement and urging to the new lands. There was always some seething going on under the tarps before real chaos began. And this was the beginning of it. The first wave when the bill posters leave. It was time.  
My excitement guided my feet in fast steps. Almost running but not really. I tried to blend in and not draw too much attention but if people were to watch me, they had to think I was chasing after my little brother like I had done many times when he'd stolen my diary like he used to.  
Before the trailer entrance to the fairground, a van with speakers on top parked on the path. I've rarely ever seen it but when I did, it had rusted away a little more, becoming a little dirtier every time. Sweating men with suspenders put big boxes into the back of the van, likely filled with placards that were to be distributed throughout the next town. My eyes scanned the area, growing more anxious with every sweep across the men. Patrick was nowhere to be seen. I stopped in the midst of the field. Suddenly feeling very silly with my backpack and, in comparison, neat pants, freshly showered with still wet streaks. Did they know that I planned on joining them? Did Patrick tell them? Looking at their probably soar arms, I was asking myself why I ever believed this would be fun. It was work like every other work that I was expected to do. Only this time I would not see a penny of what I made. I was embarrassed by my own childish beliefs, my hopes of living a day without having to work. I suddenly realized that what I really wanted was being a child. A child that didn't need to worry about money or patrons. I've grown up in the middle of a paradise of wonders without really experiencing the perks of being a child with wonder. It was always being silent and obedient for everything to go smoothly. Always holding back, always being considerate, always putting the patrons first. The community, the act, the tents, the animals, the fucking food you sell or the damn townie children making fun of you, everything came first. Everything came before yourself. My heart was heavy even when Patrick leaned out of the back of the van to receive a box of tools. He disappeared and returned again to jerk his head at me with a big grin. Instantly another box was shoved into his arms. Some of the men looked back at me for a second before continuing their loading.  
My feet were unwilling to move but I forced them anyway. Now that they've seen me, there was no turning back. My head was as light as my heart was heavy. I half expected them to ignore me and the other half at least expected some unfriendly sneering.  
"Partner in crime is coming." One man said with a laugh. He had wild hair and was only barely in his 20s. As soon as I reached them, they abandoned their tasks and inspected me. I was already blushing when they started a tirade of bad Romeo and Juliet or Bonnie and Clyde jokes while Patrick jumped off the van to determinedly press a kiss on my lips. His hands on either side of my face. Unrelenting and passionate. Of course, that little act didn't go without hollering from the bystanders. I was certain my face must, by now, look like I've been in the sun for days straight. Patrick made some joke towards the men that I didn't have enough attention for. My thoughts were still rummaging because of the salty taste of his lips and the rough hand of his that was pulling me towards a round, red-haired guy in his fifties.  
"That's her." Patrick exclaimed with a glow in his face that made my heart burn.  
I shook the guy's hand while Patrick introduced him as Frank. Frank was smiling broadly with crooked teeth.  
"I'm the boss of these tinkers." He seemed just as excited as Patrick.  
"Thanks for taking us." My voice was unusually shy. There was still a slight fear in me that this plan wouldn't work out as it should.  
Frank answered never losing his grin: "Oh no worries, ma'am. He bribed me."  
When I looked at Patrick in shock, Frank was fast to correct himself. "It was a joke, ma'am. Patrick, better get back to work if you wanna earn the bread and butter for your lady." Frank turned back to the van and began explaining instantly while the other men all started working again. The tall, scarecrow-looking man with a straw hat was called Donald and he tipped his hat when he was introduced. Then there were two similar looking younger men who turned out to be brothers. They were introduced to me as Jerry, the one with the wild hair, and little Jerry.  
The one with short shaved hair protested instantly, wearing a charming smile. "My name is Gary, actually, but these idiots are just too lazy." Before I could take his hand to greet him his more serious older brother slapped him over the back of the head with a rolled up placard. Little Gary laughed and even his brother managed a slim smile.  
"Those bills pay your bills. Y'all better take care of them." Frank murmured and led me to the front of the van. "Take a seat, ma'am." He opened the door for me and burning hot air gushed out of the interior.  
"Are you sure? I can help."  
If you're useless, you're dead weight. The sentence has been repeated so much in my head and my life that it's slowly sunk into my soul. Frank looked like he considered it but then smiled a warm, crooked smile. "Let your man work for you every now and then. Keeps 'em busy. No worries."  
Frank walked to the back out of sight while I stood before the open door, not sure what to do. Was it a test to see if I was lazy?  
"Wrap it up, boys!" Frank ordered. "Gotta get moving before anyone misses our love birds."  
For a second I thought about asking if I could help again. Then I scolded myself for it. Just sit down, I tell myself. So I did climb up the seat and sit on the edge, my feet dangling outside. Just so the heat isn't that bad, I excused it. But it was actually for me to jump out at any moment when someone asked for help.  
Frank was already coming around, placing himself in the driver's seat with a map unfolded in his hands. That was how long I'd taken to decide on what to do.  
The map was impossibly frazzled and it seemed unlikely that it was still holding itself together by the creased look of it. But it did. Like everything broken and barely functional at the carnival, it held it together long enough to be of use.  
"We'll be driving a whole day.", Frank murmured to himself, trying to fit the map into a smaller format that would still show his route.  
"Where are we going?"  
"East. Halfway to winter quarters." It was funny how he constantly talked like he had a big mustache that was swallowing his words, without really having one. The van jiggled four times followed by loud banging. "Buckle up. Y'all ready back there?"  
Banging and hollering. When I looked through the little window to the back of the van, Patrick was sitting furthest away on a sturdy box. We locked eyes and he smiled genuinely. It felt almost like there wasn't glass and a few feet between us and like nobody was there but us. Almost like he was able to ask me if I was nervous. Almost like he could feel what I meant when I furrowed my brow.  
"Shouldn't I go to the back, too?" I asked Frank, suddenly craving Patrick's closeness but also feeling uncomfortable in the front seat while the working men must sit on cardboard and placards.  
"Don't be ridiculous, ma'am. First time in decades that we have a lady with us. I sure won't send her to the back. Babycakes ordered first class for you." He cranked down the window and let his arm hang in the air. "Believe me. It's better to sit where the windows are."  
Now I felt even worse but since he started the car already, there wasn't much time to debate. We started rolling. Even though it was steaming hot in here, I got goosebumps. Maybe it was the sudden wind. Maybe it was that once we were out of the fairground, there was no going back. What if my parents got really mad. Shouldn't I have at least left a note? Something to tell them I'm fine?  
There was the first bump of the front tires hauling themselves over the side of the road. It's still time to stop. I can just go back. No one noticed yet that I left. Second bump of the back tires. My hands were shaking. The van crossed onto the street and we drove way too fast, way too far away. I flung myself around to see the outlines of the carnival fade behind us. If I didn't stop looking now, I would definitely start crying. And I knew that the imminent kind of crying would be hysterical and ugly. I knew it even before the first tear dropped. When I turned around, I pressed my back into the seat. My eyes carefully locked onto the street.  
"Don't forget to breathe.", Frank said chuckling. Then with more softness: "First time, huh?"  
I swallowed the dryness in my mouth and nodded.  
"You're as white as this truck used to be." He emitted a hearty laugh that sounded just as dry as my throat felt.  
"I never left the carnival before." I admitted and sunk deeper into the dusty seat.  
"Would've been a bad idea."  
I looked at him, mortified. I knew it. Bad ideas were all I ever had.  
"Main attraction can't just leave." He explained further.  
"I suppose." It has already been more than five minutes since we left. When I was to look back now, I wouldn't even see my home anymore.  
"When I was a little older than you, I ran away from home, too. Ma never forgave me for it. But it was what I had to do."  
I made a noise that indicated that I did listen and understand but that I didn't know what to reply. He looked at me for way too long for driving a vehicle with six people in it.  
"When you're young, you have to do thangs. Rebell a little. That's what youth does. I ran away with the carnies and ya run away with us. Fair deal."  
I took my time to think about it. Patrick in the back showed the brothers some magic trick that he had learned. I didn't hear them. They couldn't hear me. When I turned to Frank again, I frowned.  
"But what if I miss it?" I looked at him like he knew all the answers. Like he was the father that actually listened to his daughter and cared for her. A father I didn't have.  
"Ya never know unless you try. People miss a lot a thangs they got used to. Doesn't mean they need it. Doesn't mean it's good for them."  
I never imagined wisdom being told by a southern dialect and crooked teeth. Suddenly I regretted not talking to the bill posters before.  
"You're right." I sighed.  
"Now cheer up! I won't nearly lose my job because of y'all and have you be all grumpy the whole time." He gave me a nudge to the shoulder then grabbed a clear bottle from beneath his seat and handed it to me. "Gin?"


	24. Gravity

**Hey guys, I'm back with a new chapter. Please excuse the hiatus. I've been busy writing something original. Hope you enjoy this nontheless. (:**

* * *

We drove all day until the air coming in through the open windows became cold enough to close them and rely solely on the ventilation of the van. When it's gotten dark, Frank had pulled out some prepared sandwiches from under his seat and shared with me. It's been hours since then. The stars were keeping us company while we drove down deserted roads, rarely coming by other cars, never getting face to face with a town. I was leaning against the door, shielding my cheek from the cold with the arm I'm resting my head on. My feet were lazily tugged under my butt. They've been numb for hours but every other sitting position was already tried out and deemed unhelpful. Now it didn't matter anyways.

As I was concentrating on the miles of nothing all around me, I was slowly drifting in and out of sleep. The car did its best to rock me to sleep and Frank even turned down the music, thinking I was already sleeping and wouldn't notice. But my mind was too busy thinking and judging me for my hasty decision. Right now in the dark and alone, I was only dreaming of waking up and being in my trailer again.

I thought about my mother. She must be desperately searching for me in the straw wagon or near Patrick's trailer, only to find that he was gone, too. They must be scared of never seeing me again. I didn't dare to think about Danny, I was just hoping he would forgive me. Why didn't I simply leave a note? It would have taken one minute. A tear rolled off my cheek and I turned to face the window fully.

I could see my own reflection and the fog that gathered near my mouth on the glass. I closed my eyes again. The van came to a sudden stop and I jerked awake. My stiff neck told me that I had fallen asleep long ago. I stretched and looked out the window, hopeful to finally be somewhere. There was still a whole lot of nothing and darkness all around us.

"Pee break." Frank said over his shoulder, already outside and disappearing into some bushes. Disappointment flooded me. I wanted so bad to just get this over with so the carnival could catch up to us. My door was ripped open. Patrick was all glowing eyes and small laughter lines and I felt angry. But I swallowed it and let him drag me off my seat.

"Let's go for a walk." He suggested enthusiastically and took my hand and me towards the back of the van. Away from the lights and the bushes. We walked in silence for a while. I stared with my lips pressed together because of the anger I thought suppressed. He looked as disheveled as I probably did, his blond locks even wilder than usual. Even though he didn't smile, he looked happy. Genuinely happy from the inside out. His whole posture had changed during the hours we had spent apart, though in the same van. His steps were lighter, his arms swung freely. No hands in pockets. He's gained everything that I had left behind.

"You're sad." Patrick stated in a very collected manner but I felt his fingers twitch slightly. He didn't look at me. I felt like crawling into myself, leaving this place behind and screaming in pain because of the guilt that made it impossible for me to enjoy any of this. But I did neither of those things.

"I guess." My voice wouldn't let me say more because it would've ended up sounding very annoying. His hand squeezed mine. "I guess I'm homesick." I admitted and we came to a stop. Looks were exchanged but quickly pointed down to the pavement again.

"You know, if you didn't want to go, you could have just told me." He leaves my hand which could be the reason that I suddenly started crying or maybe it was his words. The unfamiliar tone of his voice. His reservation. The space between us. The fact that I had to face leaving my home virtually alone in the front of the van.

"I did want to go!" I tried to explain. I couldn't. There were so many reasons, too much to explain if he didn't understand right away.

"Then what is it?" His gaze dragged over my face, his lack of understanding obvious. Obnoxious.

"For someone claiming to know everything, you know very little." My words were sharp, as was my voice. I was so angry. So angry that he was happy while I couldn't be. So angry that he couldn't even come close to understanding why I was not able to be as excited.

"I try to understand. I really do." He was visibly desperate. His arms came up for a hug but decided differently. My cheeks were wet, tears were running down my throat.

"Why did you drag me into this?" I sobbed. "I don't want to leave. Why do you want to go so bad? How can you talk about leaving everything behind so easily? Are we not good enough for you? Why is everything so easy for you. - I don't want you to leave."

Tears disturbed my vision. I sobbed without a care for the other men or how childish I was. I washed every little bit of anger out of my body and mind, every fear and every sorrow I had gathered inside of me. It brought everything to light, even the fears I tried to forbid myself to have. Fear of losing Patrick, the only person who understood me and felt the same longings. If he left without me, there was nothing to pull me out of my hated life. I knew that I would not leave alone. I was scared for my future and the loss. The feeling of rejection. It was overwhelming.

Not waiting for Patrick to do anything, I buried my face in his chest and wrapped my arms around his waist. One second of me anxiously waiting for him to react was all it took. He held me so tight, I felt his heart beat fast under his shirt.

One hand rubbed my back, the other was tangled in my hair.

"I'm sorry." I sobbed when I finally managed to calm myself enough to speak. Shame flooded me after the relief from crying. "It's not right to say that." I didn't dare to look at him. I hadn't planned for this. I wanted to be an adult. Not to blame him. I wanted to make my own decisions and stand up for them. I wanted so much but it all ended up differently than I had planned. My emotions had their own plans and they didn't ask for reasoning.

The van honked and a big hand waved us to get back into the vehicle. We both stared at it, unsure what to do until Patrick decided we couldn't go until some things were clarified.

His hand guided my chin to look him in the eyes so he knew he had my attention.

"I know you're scared. I was scared, too. I was homesick all the time. I understand and I don't force you to make a decision. If we leave, I want you to go freely and by your own choice. I will not bring it up again unless you do." Two honks now, but Patrick continues undisturbed, unbothered and unapologetically. "And don't base your decision on me. I don't want you to blame me some day, should we leave together. Know that I will support you whatever you decide but decide for yourself."

I nodded confused. Now I was halfway reassured and halfway scared that there might be a decision in there that will make me stay behind when he leaves. Some childish part wanted him to say that he won't leave unless I do but that's not how this world works. You can't arrange your life to fit someone else and their choices. Some decisions can only be made independently. If it aligns with the other person's it's great, if not there's no point in forcing anything.

I had to admit that he was right and I also grudgingly had to admit that my mind wasn't yet ready to make such a bold move. I felt relief flood me as I confessed to myself that I didn't feel ready. I was too young, too childish, too careless. I didn't want to think about my legal age, where we would live, what I would do to earn money. I just wanted to live a little. Just a little more.

And these three days were the perfect chance to be careless. Without the consequence of leaving my family forever. I needed to take it.

* * *

When the sun finally broke through the horizon, we could see our destination in the distance. It was like an alarm clock for all of us. The back of the van suddenly sprung to life, even Frank who's been driving for the last fourteen hours now seemed mildly more awake. He slammed his bare hand against the window to the back for a few times, indicating something close to a miracle. We were almost there. The last hour across the plains of whatever state we drove through now, went by like a charm. It wasn't as hot as you would think looking outside at the red earth with barely any vegetation. Compared to our previous location. Fall had set in here for sure but you couldn't tell very much because of the all year-round dried out leaves on trees and grounds.

"Do you know where we have to set base?" I asked, in awe of the building town in front of us.

"Why do ya think I drive this thang?" was Frank's tired answer but even in his tiredness he smiled.

We drove over the main road covered in the reddest light. This magical moment was accompanied by the best time of the day. Before day really broke. Tinted in red and orange light and warm shadows. The brick buildings to both sides were still asleep, windows shut and curtains drawn. The balconies empty and forgotten. The houses were connected by lampion carrying cables across the street. For a moment I thought I was dreaming. A really pretty dream of a pretty town. One you'd want to spend your life in and know all the neighbors and secret spots to spend your time.

"It must be here somewhere." Frank murmured, reaching for the map that he thought to be under his seat. He steered us onto a smaller street. "Give me a hand, will ya?" I took the found map out of his hand and looked for markings that would give away our future location.

There were only small scribbles when I hoped for a red circle or something. "I think you need to go left here." He did.

"One or two miles to the right now." I sincerely hoped that I guided the right way but the anxiety didn't last long.

"What the fuck is that?" The exclamation brought the boys in the back to the window. Frank hit the breaks hard and we came to a stop in front of a large grassy area in the middle of the town. But the problem wasn't that it was our location because it wasn't. But the carnival that rested on it, complete with a circus tent, food trucks and multiple rides. That was a huge problem.

"Maybe it's about to pack up?" I suggested hopeful crawling closer to the windshield.

"I doubt that." He murmured dryly and squinted his eyes.

"They have fucking shows planned for the next two weeks." yelled Jerry from the back. He found the placards before we did.

"Language, boys." scolded Frank even though he just swore himself. "We have a lady here."

"He's right. There must be a mistake." Something must have gone very very wrong. There can't be two acts in one city. It's certain financial doom for one of them, usually the smaller one. Apart from that it's bad manners to camp in a city that another show has already claimed for the weeks.

In this case we were both: ungentlemanly against carny rules and the smaller show. We were doomed.

"Are you sure this is the right town?" I dared to asked and only got dirty looks from the boys.

"Who do ya think I am? Of course this is the right town." Frank huffed in his deep southern voice. I let myself fall back into my seat. "We're gonna set camp and I'mma call the boss. He knows what we gotta do."

So he parked our tiny run down van in the middle of our field diagonally across from our new rivals. We wouldn't even see them and their big tents if it weren't for their giant rides that surpassed every treetop in America. They certainly didn't have to see us because our miserable tiny van was swallowed from their view even by the tiniest shrub by the street. We looked as lost on these big empty grass plains as we felt.

The boys immediately started unpacking the essentials but the latest bummer weighed heavy on their shoulders and mood.

"Don't unpack too much, boys. Gotta phone the boss first. Maybe we made enough cash. Might wrap it up for this year." Frank didn't even get out a coherent sentence while he stumbled over the bumpy field towards the town center to find a payphone. We all craved some much needed sleep and without the adrenaline of a new start we grounded very fast.

When I turned back to the van, everyone had already slumped over one or two pieces of baggage.

Donald appropriately sat straight on the grass, not bothering with anything to sit on and had his arms splayed on two boxes that made him look even more like the scarecrow he already resembled.

Jerry already made faint snoring noises with his head hanging down from the boxes of placards he was laying on. Doing exactly what Frank wouldn't approve of. Little Gerry on the other hand was still busy with propping his jacket up to be his pillow on the free space of the cargo area they had previously created.

Sooner rather than later they were all silently awaiting Frank's return and most likely sleeping while the sun rose behind the van. You could experience day coming just by feeling the sticky fresh air and seeing the misty horizons. This was supposed to feel like a fresh start or the amazing conclusion of a not so great year. It felt a lot like the end of a lost fight than anything else.

I monitored the spot where Frank had left the field. I willed him to come back and bring good news but he didn't come back that soon. Patrick threw a spare leather jacket that smelled of cigarettes over my shoulder to keep me snug. But there was nothing he could do against the wet chillness of early morning disappointments.

"The last payphone was a few miles down the road. Frank will take a while." He whispered and there was the familiar tone of gravity in his voice again. The gravity that keeps every carny folk where he belonged. On the road never reaching further than the next stop on the tour. If I could I'd wear black to mourn this loss because it felt a lot like witnessing death. The dying of dreams. We were put in our places again. It's not like we've lost something physical. It was a mere idea in our heads. But it felt like the death of our future selves. The one we wished to be once this was over.

I'd give a lot of things to bring his weightlessness back.

For now I just nodded and followed him to the back of the van. He helped me up and around Little Gerry without waking him. Now it was on us to collapse into the corner the boys had been staying in for the whole trip here. Patrick cradled me in his arms so at least one of us had a softer spot to lay their head down on. In exchange I pulled the borrowed jacket over both of us.

It didn't even take enough time to complain about the hard floor or the pebbles poking the bones under my skin, before I fell asleep. This was the second time I ever drifted off to sleep in a boys' arms. Quite different than you'd imagine. Sleep was a lot more fitful. But in a good way because every breath Paddy took that woke me a little, reminded me again that he was still holding me. Not knowing the difference between gleeful sleep and exhilarating closeness was the best thing about this. It was all the same amazing feeling.


	25. Prejudice

Sometime in the day, we woke up again. The sun was high in the sky and the temperature had risen more than I remembered expecting in the early morning hours. We didn't have what you'd call a sufficient amount of sleep. A few hours at most. That's what my joints felt like at least. It could also be the long traveling or the gravelly cargo area I slept on, of course.

Patrick had excused himself and disappeared somewhere across the field, leaving me in the muggy silence. Everyone else was still asleep by the looks of it. Donald had resolved to completely launching in the comfortable grass and let his head be wholly swallowed by the hat that he put on his face to protect him from the harsh midday sun. Jerry and Little Garry resumed sleeping in the same curled up position each on their sleeping grounds.

It was weird to hear nothing but snoring and some crickets when there was another carnival on the other side of the road.  
Maybe they were just more organized than we were and didn't need to shout their lungs out when preparing for a show. Or maybe they were gone. Packed their bags and left.  
Maybe it was all just a weird nightmare that I had and they haven't even been here. For a second I doubted my senses, after all, I had been dozy for most of the night. A fresh breeze of air knocked me out of it.

Autumn air. Fresh and full of dying leaves. Just this one show and we're done for this year.  
With that silver lining on the horizon, I jumped off the truck bed and caused Little Garry to shift a little in his sleep when the van bounced at the loss of my weight.

"Morning, ma'am." Frank's muted voice lead me to the front seat where he was sitting.

"How did you know it's me?" I said strolling along the length of the truck.  
Frank's heavyset legs dangling out of the open front door were the only thing I saw of him. But they were quite recognizable by the frizzy jeans ending above the ankles and from the sheer size.

"Little Jerry would wake up Jerry first thing. Had to be you." Frank chuckled deeply but it never managed to be a happy tone. I leaned against the frame once I reached it and looked in the same direction Frank was staring away in.

"Did you get someone on the phone?" I timidly asked. I knew just from the look of him that there was no good news to be shared. News of Patrick and I disappearing had probably already made rounds at the camp and gotten to the officials. Apart from the real problem of our show being corrupted by other carnies.

"Yes, ma'am. They weren't thrilled." He didn't seem mad but I still felt bad. He probably got into a lot of trouble because of us.

"What did they say?"

"They're already packing up. Show must go on." He snorted bitterly. "We have two days to placard this damn town and hope for the best."  
I saw in his eyes when he glanced at me that he purposely didn't share what his boss had to say about us. Maybe it was for the best, so I didn't ask.

"Don't worry too much, ma'am. There's enough to worry about when y'all are older."  
I didn't know what to reply to that. Worry was everything I was composed of.

"Shouldn't we wake the others and get started then?" I offered in a desperate try to help Frank at least a little to compensate for all the trouble I caused.  
Frank shrugged and rubbed his chin like he had a beard that needed combing.

"There's no harm in a little break, don't ya think. This season was hard on all of us." He somehow found his smile again.  
"When Patrick comes back we should all grab something to eat. I'm not a slave driver. Gotta watch out for ma tinkers. They'd work their asses off, like you. New meat. Ya need to save some of that energy for when you're old like me."

Somehow Frank managed to take on the role of everyone's grandfather instantly. No questions asked. Even though he had lived with carnies his whole life he seemed to have kept his smile. Or maybe you just get wiser when you're older. Nevertheless, this was the first time in ten years that I felt cared for like a parent should care for a child. At the same time, it was scary to see the effects this life already had on me. I didn't think about eating when we'd gone without proper food for a whole day.

"You're right," I said right as Patrick came into view, strolling back over the field, grass dancing around his lower legs when he groomed through it. When he walked into a patch of sunlight between the darker cloudy areas, the sun brightened his hair and skin, covering him in a honey-colored shine. Illuminating his body through his white shirt like a quick spotlight that passed way too fast. And the clouds came and covered our field in this weird grey shadow that only appeared on an otherwise sunny day when a cloud decided to block the sun. It still left a halo glow around everything and on the edges of the cloud, the sun relentlessly shone.

Frank was right.

Until Patrick had reached us, Little Gerry was already up and busy waking his brother in the most mischievously loving way possible: pulling him off the stacks of boxes, judging by the laughing and yelling that followed a dull thump.

"Rise and shine, sweetheart." Little Gerry yelled with snorting laughter as he was chased around by his bigger brother who ultimately got to him and tackled him like a football player.

Donald just trotted around the corner with loosely dangling limbs and a face that wasn't anywhere near awake.

"Someday they will bash their heads in on accident and we won't have to deal with that brawling anymore." His grumpy tone continued in a grumpy slump against the side of the truck where he now leaned with his eyes closed and hands in pockets.

"And we gonna end up carrying all the boxes by ourselves and ya got another thing to complain about." Frank chuckled. Then raised his voice so even the two scuffling guys could hear: "Wrap it up, boys. We gonna go eat some."

At the mention of food the two heads popped out between the grass like scared antelopes and it didn't even take a second for them to gather around us, complaining how they could eat a horse while

Jerry got one last shove at Little Garry, earning a laugh of his little brother.  
Frank started to lead the guys to some diner down the road that he had spotted during his search for a payphone. I wanted to grab my purse and toothbrush to brush my teeth once I got to the diner. Patrick stayed behind, waiting for me. When I was finally good to go, the others were already halfway to the street and left us with a little time for ourselves.

Patrick used the unobserved moment to wrap his arm sideways around my shoulders and pull me closer, all for a kiss to my temple. I savored this silent expression of affection and nourished it in my heart even while he brought a little more distance between us again. The connection was still there. I could still feel his lips on my skin and his warmth on my arm.

It drowned out any other negative feeling until we were forced to walk by our rival's premise and I was too curious to ignore it. The three pay booths, to begin with, followed by three rows of food trucks. That was only what I could see from here. My feet stopped and I tiptoed to get a better view. My hands reached for the strap of my bag across my chest.

There were three more rows after the many food trucks, rows of stock joints and souvenirs. I've never seen this many trucks that didn't have anything to do with the main show in one camp alone. And I didn't even count the rides yet. They had at least three, not counting the big tents. My heart sank. If they needed three pay booths, the town didn't have enough customers for both fairs.

There was life behind the covered fences that blocked off any curios pedestrians' eyes from catching too many looks without paying beforehand. People walked by in the distance and I was only able to catch small glimpses of the people that were about to ruin our season. They looked normal. Everyday people like they could have worked with us.

A young woman with a costume similar to mine hopped and stretched in front of the one tent in my field of vision. A herd of white ponies crossed the main pathway. Their main attraction, I guessed. A group of young men appeared on the main pathway, laughing and joking with each other. I couldn't hear what they were talking about and realized too late that they were walking directly towards me.  
When I scurried to the side, out of the open, one of them had already seen me and nudged one of his friends. Ashamed, I hurried to catch up with Patrick who had walked a few steps backward while I was busy stalking the enemy.

"Snooping on the competition?" he welcomed me in his arm, grinning and I set a faster pace to bring some distance between the others and us in case they were about to walk the same road. Patrick took only a second to register what I was trying and fell into the same pace. Although he probably couldn't stop his curiosity and threw a look over his shoulder. "I think you've been unmasked." He joked.

"I've never been good at secret-keeping." I smiled at him.  
We made a few turns, enough to make me wonder how Frank accidentally came across the diner he wanted to guide us to. Throughout our half an hour walk, Patrick grew more and more silent and picked up a faster pace to the point I asked him what was going on.

"They're following us."

Now I was the one glancing over my shoulder. "You think?"

He just nodded.

"Maybe they just want to go to the diner, too?" I shrugged it off.

"Maybe."

"Don't worry," I say carelessly, ignoring the fact that if Patrick thought a simpler excuse to be more likely, he wouldn't be so tense for no reason.

* * *

We rejoined the others at a table in the right corner next to the bar in this tiny excuse of a diner. We squeezed ourselves onto one of those red fake leather benches that squeak with every move, next to Donald who seemed less than happy to be sharing his space when he previously had it all to himself.  
Immediately the red-haired waitress in a pink dress and white apron came over with a probably lukewarm pot of coffee. Frank had already turned his designated cup around when she only so much as looked at our table and the waitress knew to pour him some coffee as if he's always been eating here.

"Welcome to Speedy's Diner. My name's Rebecca. Can I get you some coffee while I'll fetch you the menu?"

"Yes, please. Thank you, ma'am." Frank answered, putting his best smile on.

"Anyone else wants some coffee?"

Donald lazily flipped the cup in front of him around and mumbled a 'thanks' when she poured him a cup. Patrick ordered some tea for himself while Jerry and Little Gerry were too busy arguing amongst themselves what they're looking forward to eating the most.

"Have you seen some interesting things while you've stalked our enemies?" Little Gerry asked me and I blushed immediately.

"I've seen their placards all over town. They have white stallions." Jerry gushed making big gestures like he was describing elephants.

"When I saw them they looked more like ponies," I admitted and Frank chuckled.

"Not even big fairs can keep themselves from tooting their own horn," Donald remarked ironically and immediately retreated into his passive staring state that would surely lift when the caffeine hit. Still, we all had a smile about it.

"But they do have a lot of joints and stuff." I had to admit and instantly regretted it when everyone's smiles deflated. There's just nothing we had to compare to their amount of food or game stalls.

"But there's nothing like Mariah's hotdogs!" Little Gerry exclaimed, joined in by Jerry's "And Harald's sweets."  
The waitress handed us four menus, resulting in Patrick and I sharing one.  
We stared at it for the better part of a minute, scanning the many dishes. Throughout I felt Patrick's eyes on me, causing mine to wander, too. When they met, he smiled and finally leaned over to me.

"May I invite you to our first brunch date." He whispered into my ear but his attempts at keeping this a private conversation were lost in our close space.  
Donald rolled his eyes even though he managed a smile while he exchanged a look with Frank. Little Gerry just straight-up stared at me grinning and again managed to make me slightly uncomfortable.

"Thanks." I managed to mutter under my breath, strictly staring at the menu while my face turned into the color of ripe tomatoes.

"Y'all already know what you want?" Frank distracted at least Jerry and Gerry because they occupied the menus for their side of the table, ignoring Frank's need for one.

"Pumpkin pie and wings!" Little Gerry answered, resulting in Frank taking his menu.

"Nice mix," Donald remarked, not looking up from his.

"Nevermind. I'll have to rethink my decision." Jerry announced and dove into the long list of foods again while Gerry already looked very content with his choice.

When everyone's quietly staring at the paper in their hands again, I took the opportunity to excuse myself.

"Could you order the pancakes for me, please? I'll be right back."

"Do you want anything to drink?"  
I denied, already standing up to escape the questions. Somehow it felt weird to let him pay for my food. We both knew how much each of us earned and it wasn't much. I wanted to keep my part of the receipt as low as possible.

"Are you sure? They have great sweet tea."  
I hesitated. Honestly, I was dying of thirst and I've loved sweet tea since I was little. But people were staring at me again and I felt the heat rush to my cheeks again.

"Yeah really. I'll just get something later if I'm thirsty." ... Later when the bill is already paid and I can pay for my own without making a scene.

"Okay," he said and granted me his signature smile. The sideways one that made you think he knows something that you don't without making you feel stupid. The one that made me want to kiss him endlessly until I'm able to elicit every single one of his secrets.

I turn to walk towards the other end of the diner and the restrooms with my bag hung over my shoulder when a group of young men catches my eye. I had to walk right by them and the one closest to me watched me with great interest, icy blue eyes following me. Not even trying to hide it but full-on staring.

They followed us. My head was suddenly full of anxious thoughts, remembering Lucas and his obvious problem with keeping his distance. Maybe my staring has offended them or they found some other reason. Or they just want to eat, the little voice of reason argued. Maybe they are rich enough with their giant show to afford to eat out while on tour instead of eating what the fair's cook made for the crew.

I hurried past them and only heard them break out in louder chatter once I was close to disappearing behind the door to the ladies' room.

I took my sweet time with brushing my teeth and freshening up, ridiculously hoping that they changed their mind and left before I came out again. But of course, they were still there when I came out. The one guy sitting opposite to the previously staring one, shifted in his spot to block my way with his legs as soon as he saw me. Now awkwardly leaning on his bench but he didn't seem to care that he made a fool of himself.

My feet started to walk automatically and I just stared towards my own booth where the waitress was serving our food already. Not once looking at them or anywhere else but my destination. I matched my steps exactly in a way that would have made it possible to elegantly step over his legs but he moved them just in time for me to stumble.

"Watch your gams." I hissed before I was able to think twice after I nearly fell sprawling to the ground. Only the side of his bench saved me from falling completely.

"Ah, nice of you to stop by." The leg guy said in a weird abomination of English that made him sound instantly evil combined with the same cold blue stare that his friend possessed. "My friend Victor here saw you lurking around our fair. If you want to visit he can get you ticket."  
In the middle of his sentence he grabbed my wrist, disguising it as helping me steady myself but he didn't let go after.

"No, thanks."

"Ah, no worry. He can get you inside without money. He knows the best places." Victor's friend carried on, ignoring or not understanding the venomous tone in my voice.

"I'll rather wait for the next fair." I pried his fingers from my hand with enough force that his smile cracked for a second. But it was all it took for me to be on my way again. Donald was already standing up, ready to bolt to my rescue with Patrick and the others being a second away from coming over, too.

"Ah come on, honey.", he tried his best to coax me into giving him even just a moment more of my attention. But I let his remark slip. I didn't even have to answer because Donald did it for me: "Hey Ruskie! She's with us." Maybe cursing someone out wasn't the best way to shut him down in the long run, but right now it seemed to help.

I heard Victor's friend utter a breathed laugh, more like a sigh but menacing in nature before he replied. "I'll see you around, chump." Then he turned to me for the last time with a smile. "See you later, princess." He earned himself a kick to the shin by Victor who was a bit more reserved than his loud-mouthed friend.

"Russians." Donald handled the word like it was a hair in his mouth. Eager to get the intrusive thing out with spite.

"Your father is Russian," Jerry remarked boldly grinning and received a death stare in return.

"All the more reason." Donald hissed and quickly gulped down his coffee. There was no more talk about Russians or his father after that. Obviously, the three men knew something about Donald that we didn't and there was a silent agreement not to bother him with that knowledge.

Patrick let me lean against him while his arm wrapped around my middle. It was one of those things that I used to ridicule about townies who were always up in the other lover's personal space but now I understood. It was warmth and safety and the warm, fuzzy feeling of being special. Like a Christmas morning with a loving family smashed together in a touch so you could enjoy it all year around.

The brothers dove into their foods and devoured it before I even touched my pancakes. Jerry had ordered a pumpkin soup and clubsandwich, funnily enough, a variation of Little Gerry's pumpkin with bird brunch.  
Donald and Frank were still waiting for their ribs and coleslaw and Patrick poked his cheese omelet, handling having only one hand to eat pretty well.

"So how come we've never seen you before?" Little Gerry broke the silence with a question that didn't make the atmosphere any more comfortable. When I didn't answer immediately, he added: "You seem pretty nice for a show act."

Jerry coughed slightly. I couldn't help but smile at Little Gerry's innocent way of speaking about things. We should all talk about uncomfortable topics more often like this.

"I was taught not to mingle with the billposters. Prejudices, I guess. You guys are friendlier than some of the people I was allowed to talk to." I admitted lowly.

"If you don't count our half Russian friend." Little Gerry joked, rubbing salt into the wound but Donald only huffed.

"You know what's funny?" Jerry suddenly began to speak very seriously but then grinned at me as he progressed. "We were told to keep away from the show acts because they're stuck up and regularly getting workers into trouble."

"I guess that's how we worked at the same fair but never met," I concluded and we smiled together.  
The red-head came back and served first Frank his ribs and then Donald, smiling sweetly at him as he watched her through his lashes. As she turned around and walked back to her counter, Donald shyly looked after her and something in his tired blue eyes lit up.

I already loved them all and I promised myself to never stop talking to them once the world started turning again. Should my parents not kill me for running away with the people they specifically forbade me to talk to and with Patrick, of course. Patrick, who my dad threatened to dispose of if he was caught with me again. I wouldn't let them stop me from talking to people again. That was the promise I made myself as I ate the first syrup-soaked pancake and felt like Christmas morning with my loving family.


	26. Paper planes

Frank let us take our time with eating and talking. We laughed together. We talked about how everyone ended up in this carnival life. Frank repeated his story of running away from home because of an alcoholic father and an unfulfilled love. Donald had been in the military when his wife left him for another man while he was deployed, so he packed his things and left his life behind once he returned.

Then there was Jerry and Little Garry who didn't explain how they ended up here. Only talking about how they were lost in a city they didn't know and Frank offered them work four years ago and they accepted. Back then Little Garry had been only 10 and cared for only by his 14-year-old brother. I didn't dare ask how they ended up alone because Little Garry cracked jokes about it like someone terrified of being asked for a backstory.

Once Frank has had his second or third cup of coffee and everyone was finished, stuffed to the brim, and the receipt was paid, we packed our stuff. The Russian carnies from three tables over had left without another interaction with us and I was glad that that problem was gone.

Donald jumped over the backrest of our booth because I didn't move out of the way fast enough. I turned up my nose at his impatience until I realized that he walked over to the counter to lean against it and the red-head rushed to him. She and her rosy cheeks asked him if he wanted anything else. He said something under his breath that I didn't understand but it made the waitress blush even more and wring her hands with a bright smile. Just as bright as the light in Donald's eyes when he talked to her.

And he talked much.

"Look at that. He can talk." I mention casually, hushed enough to be inaudible for the two at the counter. He already talked more in the time it took the rest of us to walk out the diner than I had heard him talk the two days prior. I completely forgot about the sweet tea that I planned on getting because I didn't want to disturb Donald in his flirting attempt now.

"I didn't know he can speak more than one sentence at a time." Little Gerry said casually and got nudged by Jerry as a response.

"That's because you're not a pretty girl, Little Jerry." Frank laughed at Little Gerry's frowning before walking ahead and leading us back to camp.

For the first round of bills, we went around town together. Frank wanted to show Patrick and me the tips and tricks of advantageous placard placements so we could split up tomorrow and work our routes in small groups. Little Garry and Jerry got into fights with each other every two miles and my focus was always just barely out of reach since our last night. Thankfully it started to rain pretty quickly and Frank declared it useless to try to placard anything because the adhesive wouldn't dry.

When we arrived back at our van, wet to the bones, Donald was already waiting for us. Considerably less wet. And he was in his final throes of stretching a tarp over the open hatchback and pulling the edges far enough outwards and securing them, to catch most of the rain and wind. Jerry and Little Garry immediately ran to help pull everything together.

Curiously enough, I saw Donald smile for the first time without any joke or funny situation happening beforehand. I knew the others noticed it, too. But they didn't mention it. It was a thing that we silently agreed on simply appreciating and we didn't want to scare it away by pointing it out.

The guys hid from the rain in the back of the van, cowering together in front of a kerosene lantern that Donald had excavated from a pile of placards. I retreated to the front to change into some dry clothes because through all the rain and cold wind, I started to shake and my fingers turned an icy blue.

I was about to lift my shirt when Patrick knocked on the passenger door. I only opened a tiny crack, enough for him to ask if he could come in.

"I was about to change," I whispered but let him climb on the seat next to me, his hair dripping on the seat. I was barely able to keep my eyes off his wet white dress shirt, exposing the skin under it.

"I know." A smug smile on his face. "But I thought you might need a little warmth." He presented me with a blanket that was only partly wet with rain.

"Thanks," I said as I took it. "I still need to get out of my clothes for this to work."

"Do you have spare clothes with you?" He suddenly became very shy, trying hard to keep his eyes from wandering from my drenched hair to my wet t-shirt that was clinging to my body.

"Yes." I breathed, while in the back of the van, Donald started to play his harmonica to a rhythm that indicated sitting around a campfire in summer.

"Good. I'll leave you to it then." He gave me one of those confident smiles that provoked me to do something stupid. A very wild part of me almost asked him to stay. I wanted to slap this part to consciousness again and I was glad I didn't give in to it. Patrick leaned in and scanned my face as if he wanted to memorize it before I closed the gap between our lips. It was a different kind of kiss. There were more burning and more needing, desiring. Craving.

It was a strange feeling. Like he consumed me but at the same time fueled everything I was. The part of me that wanted him to stay grew with every second he spent caressing my lips. When I realized I had grabbed his shirt and pulled him closer, I broke the kiss. It took me a second to open my eyes while my heart was still spinning in my chest.

He looked at me with half-lidded eyes and a sideways smile. There was silence in between our breaths while there was so much to say but nothing was sweet enough for a moment like this. The eternal knowledge that this was a time in my life that will forever be engraved in my memory. A part of who I am. A knot in time. The starting point of a new timeline in my existence. At this moment every string was being freshly spun into a new construct and I loved the sensation of a new life to come.

"I hope you will be happy," He whispered and pressed a sweeter kiss on my lips. I hoped I will be happy, too. But right now it didn't seem likely that I could ever be unhappy in his arms and with his lips on mine. I loved this season of my life so much, I wanted to keep it in my hands and never let go of him or the feeling or anything else that made it that way. He kissed me again and it gave me another nudge over the edge of bliss.

Way too early, he climbed out of the passenger door again and walked around the van to the back. I watched him disappear into the misty air in the wing mirror while I was increasingly thankful for my wet clothes to cool me down. My mind chewed on this interaction like it was too much to handle such happiness and I couldn't contain it. I closed my eyes, trying to keep every wave of my dopamine rush together but it trickled through my hands.

On a mission to not let the high leave too soon, I quickly changed into dry jeans and a sweater to keep me warm. With the blanket in hand, I rejoined the others in the cargo area and settled in the back next to Patrick where we had previously spent the night.

Donald had begun another tune while Frank enjoyed the tranquility with his eyes closed. Jerry showed Little Garry how to fold old newspapers that they dug up somewhere into planes with increased difficulty. And we were left in the dark far end of the cargo area alone and unobserved. I wanted to kiss him again and again. Like the night in the hay wagon. I wanted to feel his weight and warmth. But this was not a time for such activities. I doubted there will be a time for that soon.

"What do you think will happen when they arrive here?" My voice was low enough to be overshadowed by Donald's tune if one's not sitting right next to me as Patrick did.  
He cleared his throat and let his arms hang over his knees. It was even obvious to me that he thought hard about what part of the truth he wanted to leave out.

"I don't want anything to come between us," I stated to his relief. "I know my parents will try."

"Your dad will want to kill me if Alex doesn't do it first," Patrick said with a hint of bitterness in his laugh.

"He might," I admitted with a grin on my lips. "But you're almost 18 now. As am I. We are capable of making our own decisions."  
Patrick scanned my face curiously. "You don't have to make a decision now, Annie. You have plenty of time even if you've not decided until your birthday. Your 18th birthday is not a deadline."

"I didn't say that!" I protested too harshly maybe. But he was reading me and I didn't like it. "I just know that you told me about your dream of leaving once you turn 18. You had it since you were 12 and your birthday is in two weeks."

"I know. I've resented that date for years. I told you about my plans because I had nothing holding me back, back then. Things change."

I let Donald start another tune before I commenced.

"You have nothing holding you back now, either," I said and I felt the cut it caused through the 10 inches of air that separated us. "I don't want to be the reason you give up your dreams, too."

Patrick sighed and shifted to face me. "Dreams change. I had other dreams in the past and abandoned them for new ones. Sometimes they came back, sometimes better things happened. I have a new one now and I don't plan on abandoning that one so soon." He took one of my hands and caressed it with his thumb before turning it over and unconsciously following the creases in my palm with his index finger.

"What is your new dream now?"

He smiled and brought my knuckles to his lips before looking me in the eyes. I leaned closer, the craving for a kiss greater than ever now. But he lowered my hand again to continue his caress while he spoke: "Long showers, a solid door, a bed big enough for two and furniture that can't be folded again."

The future we dreamt up in the hay wagon reappeared behind my eyes in all its suburban glory.

"I want to not worry about money but instead be able to make stupid decisions that won't be life-threatening. I want to be the one that makes you happy. And I want you in my life forever."

"That sounds an awful lot like a proposal," I said, too overwhelmed by the love he plastered me with. Not in a bad way. But in a way that made me play it cool because I wasn't ready to admit that I wanted all those things, too. Deep in my heart, I knew that there's going to be a time when I will not be scared to leave and that will be the time that I will reciprocate all that he said. Everything I was doing now just led up to that inevitable point in time and there was no other way my future will be going. I didn't want it to go any other way. So actually all my brain and heart said was yes to all of it, even though I didn't let him know that yet.

"I don't have a ring. You can't propose without a ring."

I drowned in his confident smile and couldn't keep myself from kissing him anymore. I didn't care who saw it. He was the best thing that happened to me and I couldn't even express to myself how I felt for him.

A paper plane poked me in the arm and I was startled off my high. When I looked up, Little Gerry yelled over at us with a disgusted grimace: "Get a room!", while Donald wheezed into his harmonica, eliciting dying sounds from it.


	27. Experience

**Happy Holidays to everyone celebrating.**

* * *

The first day of placarding went by smoothly. Although Patrick and I together, put fewer billboards up than the slowest of the others. Frank didn't seem mad, though. He didn't even separate us on our second day's tour. Although Donald had to accompany us which didn't exactly make him rejoice. But he dealt with our lovey-dovey behavior because he, himself, walked by the diner in hopes of catching the redheaded waitress during her break.

That day coincidence was on his side and he let us take a break by ourselves and earlier at that. We left the barrow full of billboards at the diner in the hands of Donald. For the first time, I could completely let go of any responsibility and it was an amazing relief.

"What do you want to do?" I asked Patrick as we walked down the streets, holding hands like we were walking to our own little house in our own little town. Like this town, on this day, in this fall belonged to us. Like we were its inhabitants all along, since our childhood and further because our parents hadn't ever seen other streets in their life.

He shrugged and I loved it. He could have said anything and I would have completely adored it. We walked down emptier streets until we found a house that looked dead with its falling shingles and rotting wood beams that framed the rectangular structure and its protruding porch. But it was perfect. A small and cozy one-story home with a chimney in the middle. Perfect because it wasn't big enough to feel weird when your whole life previously fitted in a trailer.

Patrick shamelessly jumped on the porch planks and the house creaked its welcome like it looked forward to being in someone's life again. I followed his example and sat down on the one stair it had to offer for rest. I sat there like I just made lemonade in the kitchen and came out to enjoy the little sun the year had left. Patrick swung around the porch beam to let himself fall next to me. The house echoed his burden with a wooden grunt. He didn't just content himself with sitting, he lounged back on his elbows and let his head rest on his shoulder.

"You know what this porch lacks?", he whispered with a sigh.

"Proper cleaning?" I joked and rubbed the dust off the planks until the grey appeared whitish again.

"A porch swing," Patrick revealed and let out a long-held breath.

I looked at him. He had his eyes closed. There was a dust flake caught in his blond curls. Caught like the sunlight in summer. Only making the rest of him prettier. I leaned over. I knew he must notice but he didn't acknowledge it. I was close to him, barely keeping my balance on one arm. The other hand moved through the air to the dust in his hair, hesitating for a moment because of the dirt on my palm from brushing the debris off the porch before.

He must feel the shadow of my hand over his face or the warmth of my skin radiating near his cheek. He didn't flinch. I picked the dust out of his curl and gave it to the wind. My hand didn't retreat, though. It combed through his hair, brushing strands behind his ear which stubbornly fall back into place. His eyebrows twitched before a smile covered his lips. He leaned into my palm without really moving.

My hand wandered to the nape of his neck and I let myself lose balance to reach his lips. Most of my weight now rested on him but he held me upright, even sacrificing one of his stabilizing arms to wrap around my middle. His kiss was sloppy and his lips wet while he caught my lower lip in his. Kissing again and again. Never really breaking contact but also never touching on the same spot. I felt his hunger in the breath we shared. A sigh of his developed in something more like a groan or breathlessness.

My hand moved on his chest to gain better support. Or that's what I was telling myself. I just wanted to touch more of his body. The parts I had only previously discovered through wet and clingy shirts. I wanted more of him. And he gave me what I wanted. This time I deemed it not so bad that he could read me like an open book. He touched my lower lip with his tongue like a question if I let him do what he had in mind. It sent electricity down my body. I reciprocated the nudge and he didn't even let me finish before his tongue brushed against mine.

I had never understood the appeal of french kisses nor witnessed anyone responsible kissing like that in public. Now I was doing it and moaning into Patrick's mouth, too lost in the rush to even care that we were sitting on a porch in the middle of a street.

Patrick responded with a moan of his own, pressing me against his chest and lowering his upper body until his back reached the planks. Immediately his hands reached for my face to pull me closer into a lusting kiss. I was about to lie on top of him. I wouldn't want my parents or anyone to catch us like this. Yet I couldn't possibly break a kiss this good.

That's when Patrick pulled back, holding my face at the closest distance that he could look at me clearly. His eyes searched my face. I must look disheveled with swollen red lips, breathlessly panting. Nevertheless, he smiled. He, himself, had red blotches on his cheeks and down his neck and a lot more dust caught in his hair than before.

"We should stop." He whispered although he inched closer to my mouth again.

"Why?" Was the stupid answer that rolled over my tongue too fast to catch it.

Patrick chuckled and kissed me again but retreated too fast for me to even close my eyes.

"Because right now I want more than kiss you."

A giggle escaped me because I didn't know how to react otherwise. I was flattered as well as overwhelmed by my own cravings.

"You're so beautiful." He breathed a kiss on my blushing cheek before he sat up and pulled me with him. My brain spun from endorphins and getting up too fast. Patrick wanted us to sit on the porch step for a little while longer for whatever reason. While we caught our breaths again, he had his arm around my waist. He coughed slightly to diffuse the sudden silence.

I drew circles on Patrick's jeans that stayed in the dust that had accumulated on the fabric during the workday.

"Have you done it before?" I asked out of the blue because my mind wouldn't leave the more subject alone.

Patrick froze and cleared his throat again. "What do you mean?" He clearly played for time but I let him get away with lying about not knowing what I meant. He must be very desperate to not brag about his ability to know what everyone was thinking.

"Sex," I said point-blank. I made sure not to look at him even though I felt his eyes resting on me.

"Do you want me to be honest, or...?" He tried to joke his way out of this but I was too curious to let him off the hook.

That was the moment I broke the promise of not giving in to the urge to look at him. I was prepared to be put off by the look in his eyes or some more joking, but nothing like that happened.

"Of course."

Patrick unconsciously took my hand and held it between his like he had bad news for me. My heart sagged although I tried to fight it.

He started with an 'ok' and needed another minute of breathing. "I did have sex before." His voice was low like he expected me to lash out at him. And I didn't know what to say next because I had so many questions but I didn't want to make his fears come true.

"Ok." Was what I finally went with. Not ideal and I was painfully aware of that.

"You want to know more, so please ask already!" Patrick almost begged me. His pulse racing against my hand. And I placed a second one over ours as a way of reassuring him that I won't be angry with him. I really hoped that I wouldn't be, but in my chest, there was already a war of jealousy and intrigue raging. Who had dared to touch him like I wanted to before I got the chance to? What did he do with her? Did he hug her and tell her she was beautiful like he told me? My mind went wild with images of him touching another girl, enjoying her, making the same sounds he made when I kissed him. Did his moan change with lesser clothes on?

"Who was she?" I carefully selected the pitch of my voice although I couldn't stop it from trembling. Imaginary girls flashed behind my eyes. Townie girls, tall, pretty, thin. Giggling and searching for a kick in their boring smalltown lives, seducing Patrick during a reading. I experienced it first hand how bewitching his cunningness and charm were.

"The first girl, I met in the youth center they put me in. She was a resident there, too. I thought I was in love with her but looking back I was just stupid and alone."

The fact that there was even a first and second and maybe more, made me anxious. I had kissed him without knowing anything about kissing and he had all this experience with everything. What if I did something wrong? Did he ever think about what the other girls did differently? Maybe their lips were softer or their breath smelled better. Suddenly I was self-conscious about everything I did.

Patrick felt my insecurity and started caressing each of my fingers individually.

"The second was a townie I met right before I came back. I spent the night with her one time."

"Because you were alone?" I hissed and regretted it immediately.

"It was more like me trying to be rebellious. Doing what I wanted. After I spent my life fulfilling someone else's wishes. I realize that that wasn't exactly the right decision."

I nodded.

"Listen, Annie. I don't want it to change anything. For me, it changes nothing." He waited for me to reply but I didn't. I stared at the house across the street.

"I know you feel different." He stated.

"The infuriating part is that I don't even know why," I admitted and let my hands go limp in his grasp.

"Should I have told you beforehand? We can go as slow as you want to. I don't have any expectations about... that." Patrick's voice decreased in volume when a middle-aged man walked by, staring at us awkwardly. The man's expression was probably the exact replica of what I felt right now.

"No! That's not it." I spluttered. How I wished, we wouldn't have this conversation right now. Placarding the whole town didn't seem so bad anymore. "It's just that... I thought it was special. It felt special to me. What we did." I rolled my eyes at myself. what we did. Like we did anything but kissing. It was close nothing for him. He saw other girls naked already. Felt them. I retreated my hands to wrap my arms around myself.

He let his heels slide along the pavement until his legs were straight in front of him.

"I'm sorry you feel this way. For me it is special. Every time you grant me a kiss is special. And I love kissing you. But that should be fairly obvious."

I didn't reply.

"You're quick to judge for someone who kisses townies to make me jealous." He said more lightheartedly than the words themselves sounded.

Now even if I wanted to answer, I couldn't think of anything. I was a mix of hurt and angry. Mostly because he was right. I was in no position to judge.

"At least I didn't sleep with him because I was lonely." His eyes darkened in response but I continued. "Or should I have done that? Apparently, that's the thing to do."

After that, we were both left speechless and staring at the house on the other side of the street. We resembled the dead house we were sitting in front of. Unmoving, empty staring through hollow eyes and crushed by our own weight.

My mind was thinking painfully slow. I wanted to apologize. But my pride was like a rock that drowned me in myself. I knew I needed to apologize.

"Annie, everything I said is still true." Patrick was first to try and start a new conversation.

"Stop," I said too fast, almost sounding angry again. Angry with myself. I tried more thoroughly this time: "Please, stop. I know I'm wrong and I'm sorry. I'm just. I don't know anything about anything." I almost smiled at my own incoherent sentences. "I've never done any of this before."

"I know." Patrick breathed in between my sentences.

"I don't know how to do anything. I don't want to be compared to anybody. I know I'm not perfect at this. But I thought you weren't either, so it didn't matter."

For a moment, Patrick stared at me, to then commence in a serious voice. "It hurts my ego a bit that you think I'm not perfect at this." His sentence was overshadowed by his signature grin towards the end.

"This is not funny!" I exhaled indignantly, nudging him to distract from my burning red cheeks.

"You're right. It's not." He could barely control his smile.

"Did you tell the others what you told me, too?" This question deleted his cheerfulness from his face once again.

"The second one wasn't like that. The first one... I did say some things. Although I realized early on that I didn't mean any of them." At least I contented myself in the fact that he didn't see any sense in lying to me.

"Do you still mean what you said to me?" I looked at him sheepishly.

He immediately met me with a "God yes. Everything."

I smiled to myself, wringing my hands in my lap.

"You're still amazingly beautiful when you blush like that. And I still want to make love to you; But I'm also happy with just kissing you until you're ready, maybe even until we're married if that's your wish."

I was amazed by his ability to speak such words without stuttering or blushing. "I think I'm too curious for that."

The corners of his lips twitched and he dared to take my hand again. "I'm looking forward to exploring with you together." The way he said it, he followed the lines of my veins on the inside of my forearm with his finger. "Whenever you're ready."


	28. Christmas Special

A little something as a Christmas treat for you guys; Three snippets from Angela's and Patrick's childhood Christmas. Thanks for your continuous support for my story and your many comments. Merry last day of Christmas.

* * *

 **1979**

It was Christmas Eve and I couldn't sleep. Dad told us to go to bed early today so Santa could get more presents for us. Danny fell for it. I didn't. I'm too old for this but I tried to tell Mom and she got sad. So I was lying in the upper bunk bed, listening to Mom and Dad trying to whisper while they put the presents under our table. I asked for a Christmas tree this year again because Dad promised last year. We didn't get a Christmas tree. Mom plucked some branches from the nearby forest and pretended it was a tree. She even hung three ornaments and a bunch of bows on it. I smiled for her. But it wasn't the same thing. We still got our presents under our table.

Then my parents left and I closed my eyes. Maybe now I could fall asleep when they don't whisper yell at each other. I didn't know how Danny could fall asleep that fast.

The floorboards creaked and every hair on my body stood. I lay still, listening if there was another creak. Mom and Dad were gone, Danny was asleep. There shouldn't be footsteps in our trailer. Another creak.

"Danny?" I hissed. No answer. When I looked into the dark long enough, I could see the curtain that separated the bunk beds from the rest of the trailer move. I pulled the blanket up to my nose and crouched into the corner, a hand on the small window. I could still climb out when someone pulled the curtain back. Dad always said I'm fast.

Honestly, anyone could come in here when Dad was gone. Even I could crack the questionable lock at the trailer door. I did two times when the show took too long and I wanted to sleep. Dad had been very angry with me but the lock wasn't changed.

A loud smack at the window made me wince. I froze to listen if it woke up Danny before I looked out. Paddy stood on the metal trailer hitch thing that Dad banned us from touching. I frowned at him. He pointed at the latch that kept my window shut, almost reaching the height of it.

"Dad doesn't want us to touch that thing." I hissed at him when I opened the hatch.

"I'm not touching it," Paddy answered proudly. "I'm standing on it."

"Why are you not sleeping?" I snapped at him and refused to meet his gaze, so he pulled himself up by the frame. I ordered him to stop. He didn't.

"You promised to play today." He was very strained by holding himself up and you could hear it in his voice.

"You don't play. You cause trouble, says dad. Besides it's Christmas and it's late and when you're not asleep, Santa can't come and bring you presents." I halfway barricaded the opening with a pillow because he couldn't get in that way but I could still see him.

"I don't get presents anyway anymore," Paddy said it with a smile on his face that made me not believe him.

"Maybe that's because you've been naughty."

"Might.", was all he could say before his arms gave up and he slid down the side of the trailer again, landing on the metal thingy that he mustn't touch. Panting, he started again. "But I think that it's just that Dad gets too drunk to remember putting them under the table."

I needed to remove the pillow again to see him.

"But how can he forget. It's Christmas."

"I think that's what he wants." Paddy shrugged and balanced forward and backward on the metal rod. "Mom was the one who did the Christmas things."

I growled angrily. I knew what he was trying to do. Make me feel bad for him so I would break the rules and play with him.

"Move over." I snapped and let myself glide down the side of the trailer, landing next to him on the metal thing. My knees were already dirty from the mud he had left on the sidewall while hanging from my window. Good thing I only had a nightgown on or my parents would have noticed in the morning.

I crossed my arms. "So what do you want to do?"

Paddy grinned proudly and jumped off the trailer hitch. He offered me his hand to help me down and I hesitantly tried to reach it. His grin broadened and he slapped my hand lightly before running away.

"You're it.", he yelled.

"That's not fair!" I yell after him, carefully climbing off the rod by myself. "You're cheating!"

 **1982**

It was the first year of winter break. Last year our Christmas themed show had plummeted into oblivion and we lost all our earnings from that year's summer. So for this year, chief had decided we would take a winter break and settle in a small town in the north. He looked after short term jobs for everyone so we could survive the 5 months. But because of that, mom was at work for the whole 24th and dad had a tough time recreating Christmas like she used to do. It felt more like he was desperate himself.

So in the end, after dinner, Danny and I were sent outside after we put jackets and gloves on so dad could clean the kitchen. We had abandoned our trailers for rented motel rooms this year that weren't much larger than the on-the-go vehicles. But at least they had a separate kitchen and two rooms with a door that I couldn't break into anymore. We lived like normal people, for five months at least.

Danny ran down the stairs before me and towards the benches in the middle of the U-shaped complex. He was greeted by Harald and two other carnival workers that I didn't immediately recognize. Harald handed him something that I couldn't see in the dark of the dimly lit lot but judging by Danny's grin it must have been candy.

The three men inched together so Danny could have a seat.

I greeted them with a nod when I reached them and sat on a separate bench.

"What are you doing outside? Aren't you supposed to sleep and wait for Santa?", Harold asked Danny with a laugh that could only suit a nice, old man with a white beard. Just like Santa. If I'd still believe in that.

"Santa doesn't exist and dad is overworked all alone.", I clarified only to be met by an angry stare from Danny.

"Don't say that!", he grumbled and kicked frozen pebbles at me. "One day you'll not get any presents and you'll see!"

"He's already 9 and still believes in these fairytales."

"Oh, how old are you then, little lady?", Harald asked obviously amused. I didn't know what was there to be amused about. Danny better grew up fast if he didn't want to be disappointed. If the carnival commenced this way, presents would diminish anyways.

"I'm 13," I said, sitting up straighter. The other two men chuckled and I scowled at them but I doubted they saw.

"She thinks she's grown up." Danny sneered into Harald's ear loud enough for me to hear.

"At least I don't believe in bedtime stories anymore.", I murmured.

"Oh! Speaking of which." Harald intervened. "I have the perfect story for a Christmas night. Do you two want to hear it?"

Danny was hooked immediately.

"Maybe Patrick wants to join us instead of standing around in the shadows like a ghost." Harald smiled and instantly, I followed his look and there he was. Standing under one of the stairs, bare hands in his jeans jacket's pockets. White clouds formed in front of his face with every breath. I looked away.

Paddy walked over slowly like a shy deer and sat on my bench, but not too close. His head still bowed. I felt my cheeks burn and I couldn't keep myself from a sideways glance. His hair fell into his face and the sky was dark but I was sure that there was a weird color on his face. I abandoned my glance again before anyone noticed and before I could get a clearer look.

Harald addressed Danny again when he spoke. "Do you know the story of the greatest tightrope walker this world has ever seen?"

Danny shook his head eagerly.

"He started as young as you are. But he ended up walking on a rope from one country to another."

That's how Harald had started the story of The Great Blondin since I was little. It had always been his favorite because the acrobat starting out as the 'Little Wonder' became so famous, athletes from all over the world stole his name for their shows. He was the impersonation of every carny's dream. Endless fame earned by fearless recklessness.

"Impossible," Danny said, completely caught up in the story and as if he had never heard it before.

"But I'm telling you!" Harald answered and continued with the story of the one and only way a carny can earn greatness: Risking their life. Danny's eyes glowed.

I couldn't follow the story. Paddy was sitting next to me, shuffling his feet, aligning pebbles and destroying the patterns he had created. I wanted to speak to him. But I couldn't here. Not before the men who find everything I do funny. On the spur of the moment, I got up and walked somewhere. I didn't even know where. Just out of sight.

Then I waited without turning around. My heart beat so fast. I didn't want to look back in case I was foolishly walking away alone without anyone following.

But why should he follow? He just sat down. Maybe he thought I left because it was too cold for me outside. Maybe he thought it was because he sat next to me? Terribly embarrassing variants of why he could have misunderstood crowded my head. I started walking again. Walk around and come back from the other side. It won't look weird, I told myself.

"Now I really think you just want to be away from me." His voice made me jump even though his lips smiled when I turned around. His right eye was swollen and dark. He still had stains of blood on his upper lip.

"What happened to your face?" I asked redundantly. Everyone had heard the yelling. This was not an open field trailer park anymore.

"Oh... You know. Alex got bored without the fair and it's Christmas." He smiled. It hurt my soul.

My feet walked closer to him.

"I'm sorry." I wanted to explain to him that I had begged dad to bring Paddy over for Christmas but that he refused because he didn't want to interfere with Alex's household. But that excuse wouldn't help Paddy now. "I hope there will be a better Christmas for you. You deserve it."

"Oh, I'll manage." Paddy waved his shaking blue hand like he didn't just get beat up by his father. "Only five more years to go."

"You can stop by, tomorrow I mean if you want to. Mom will be back. She always tries to make Christmas special." I offered but felt bad at the same time because I couldn't do more or anything worthwhile at all, other than brag about my parents who at least tried.

"Thanks," Paddy said but I knew that he wouldn't come if only not to anger Alex. Maybe he also took care of his father when he woke up from his jag.

I stepped close enough that our cloudy breaths mixed and I took his freezing hands in my glove-covered ones. "You shouldn't be out like this. We're not in the south anymore."

There was silence while I tried to warm the ice cubes that were his hands.

"Do you need a mistletoe?" Paddy whispered all of the sudden.

I stared at him. "What?"

"You're already holding my hands."

"I'm not holding your hands! Don't be ridiculous." My voice sounded suffocated the more I tried to sound unfazed by the prospect of a kiss.

I didn't remove my hands. Neither did he.

"It would make for a special Christmas, though." Paddy's lips spread into a weird half-smile because of the stiffness of the hurt side of his face.

"Absolutely not. Don't be disgusting." I joked and hated myself for reacting so negatively. I debated with myself if Paddy really just moved closer or if it's just the dark that played tricks on me.

"You're blushing." He stated and I couldn't take it anymore.

"That's it. Freeze your hands off, will you." I stormed past him and didn't look back. I was smiling too broadly to hide that I wanted to squeal with excitement. A kiss. That would have been something. A kiss to make Christmas special. A first kiss. I uttered a weird kind of noise, like a mew of a seagull because I couldn't take the adrenaline and heat in my cheeks. It was possible that I might explode before I could hide in my room and giggle into my pillow. I wanted to go to sleep and dream of this kiss, roll the thought around in my head. Reiterate the conversation until I'd doubt it ever happened.

On the top of the stairs to my apartment, I did look back slightly. Patrick leaned against the wall where I left him, arms crossed and a content smile on his bruised lips. Like he had been sure that I couldn't help myself but look back and reconsider my choice.

Maybe next year.

 **1983**

It was the second day of Christmas and I was sitting in front of the communal Christmas tree they put up in the middle of the apartment complex. It was snowing.

Everything looked like the perfect Christmas day. The one in the cheesy Christmas movies. Dull music was playing. I was almost alone except for the two boys who looked like the same person with a few years of age difference. They threw snowballs at each other. Father had forbidden me from talking to them since they joined the fair.

Right now, I didn't want to talk to anyone anyway.

Everything looked perfect.

I was spinning a mistletoe in between my gloved fingers. Snowflakes got caught in my damp hair.

Patrick had been gone for four months now. No one knew where he went. He didn't tell Alex, understandably, but he also didn't tell me.

I don't know what hurt me more. That he was gone or that he didn't tell me about it beforehand.

In every free minute of this year's Christmas, my mind wandered to last year's and the missed chance of kissing him. I should have done it. I should have kissed him when he asked me to. Because he basically did. Maybe then he would have told me that he left.

My eyes watered again. Crying in freezing temperatures sucked. It only ended up hurting more.

Happy thoughts.

In two months we were going to start the fair again. Surely he'd be back by then. That's what Alex told everybody.

Only two months left without him. When he comes back I'd make sure to kiss him. Save he still wanted to.

Happy thoughts.

At least he's away from Alex for a bit. Maybe Patrick's with relatives who do care. Having a Christmas tree. Going to a Christmas sermon. Receiving presents. Normal Christmas stuff.

Alex had grown continually worse over the year. I didn't blame Patrick for wanting to get away. He had a black eye more than he did not this year.

I prayed every day for Patrick to be safe but even the prayers didn't help. My parents didn't either. No one did a thing to help him.

My nose burned.

Happy thoughts.

Next Christmas I will hold his hands and kiss him and he wouldn't have bruises. He would smile. We'd joke around. He would be safe. We'd be together. It would be a successful year. The carnival would make a lot of money, chief would be happy, Alex would stop drinking, world hunger would be solved and there would be no more wars.

Fuck Christmas.

 **1985**

"He's still not back. But that's fine with me. If he wants to stay away, so be it. I don't care.

This will be the last Christmas that I sit around waiting", I wrote as I cried.

No one had heard from him in two years. Maybe he was dead. Maybe Alex had managed to kill him finally. God, how I hated this fair and everyone in it.


End file.
